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RENEE’S MARRIAGE 


y 

MARTHE LACHESE 


Front the French 


BY 

P. P. s. 



( APR 18 1BS2 
/ 


PHILADELPHIA 
H. L. KILNER & CO. 


PUBLISHERS 



Copyright, 1892 
BY 

H. L. KILNER & CO, 


TABLE OF CONTENTS. 


I. Two Cousins, 

II. Obliged to Wait, 

III. Alphonse’s Agility, 

IV. Plans, . . , . 

V. Ren^e, 

VI. A Visit, 

VII. The Marquise’s Soiree, 

VIII. The Next Day, . 


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24 

• ' 34 

43 

. 66 
114 
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224 











































































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RENEE’S MARRIAGE 


CHAPTER I. 

TWO COUSINS. 

As the hour of eleven sounded from all the 
clocks that in a great city seem like the plain- 
tive voices of time rapidly passing away, a 
young man descended from a travelling car- 
riage, and entered a handsome house the porch 
of which was surmounted by a large slab of 
black marble, bearing these words : Grand Hotel 
de Bourgogne . He opened the glass door behind 
which was a woman seated at a desk, and in- 
quired : 

“ M. Gauthier de Montpollin ? ” 

“ Number 75, corridor to the right, in the fifth 
story,” answered the clerk. 

“ But is he at home ? ” 

“Yes, Monsieur.” 

The young man slowly ascended the staircase, 
the beautiful marble of which, with its hand-rail 


6 


RENEE’S MARRIAGE. 


of velvet, and figured carpet, did not diminish 
the number of its one hifhdred and twelve steps. 
He stopped a moment upon the fifth landing to 
take breath, then turned in the direction indi- 
cated, and, at last, rapped at a door the number 
of which could scarcely be distinguished, so dark 
was the corridor. 

“ Come in,” said a voice from the depths of 
the apartment. 

The visitor opened the door, and advanced joy- 
fully, but stopped short — he saw no one. 

A burst of laughter from an alcove on the 
right, caused him to turn round. From amidst 
curtains that in the last century might have been 
blue, a head appeared, and two hands were ex- 
tended to greet him. 

“ In bed ! ” exclaimed the new-comer. “ Are 
you sick?” 

“ Not the least in the world, my dear fellow, 
but I had nothing to do. Besides, it is not 
more than eleven o’clock at latest. I have 
smoked but four cigars.” 

“What taste!” it is almost impossible to see 
here. Well, I am delighted that you have had a 
safe and pleasant journey. But get up, Alphonse, 
we can talk better. It really makes me uncom- 
fortable to look at you through the cigar smoke 
and under the reflection of that green cur- 
tain.” 


TWO COUSINS. 7 

“ I will,” answered Alphonse, yawning. Stir 
up the fire a little, Xavier, whilst I dress.” 

Very soon the two young men were seated, 
side by side before a blazing fire. 

“ I did not expect to see you in Paris just 
now,” said he whom the traveller called Xavier. 
“ Your last letter led me to believe that you were 
about to study with a notary.” 

“ Pooh ! I really did think myself threatened 
with that calamity. Scarcely knowing what to 
set about, I pondered the matter seriously. 
Said I to myself, in a little town, a notary’s prac- 
tice is always worth a hundred thousand francs. 
That of M. Malvarais — are you acquainted with 
M. Malvarais?” 

Xavier inclining his head affirmatively, Al- 
phonse continued : 

“ That of M. Malvarais, it appeared to me, was 
about the above mentioned sum. Moreover, he 
is rich, that good man — the death of a relative 
left him heir to at least eight thousand or ten 
thousand francs’ income. His only daughter is 
but seventeen, she will not marry for a year 
or two. Now, said I to myself, in studying with 
M. Malvarais, I give him the opportunity of becom- 
ing thoroughly acquainted with me. Meanwhile, 
during these years of patience, I dance at all the 
balls with Mile. Malvarais, I am very attentive 
to Madame, I accidentally meet the grandmother 


8 


RENEE’S MARRIAGE. 


when she goes out leaning upon the arm of some 
old Jeanneton, and I often beg the pleasure of 
replacing the latter. I — ” 

“ I understand,” said Xavier, laughing. “ In a 
word, notary’s clerk, dancer, courtier — all these 
titles, are one day to be lost in that of be- 
trothed.” 

“ Admirably defined ! I marry. My wife re- 
ceives as her dowry the paternal practice. In a 
few months, I sell the above mentioned prac- 
tice.” 

“ Oh ! that would be anything but respectful ! ” 
“ The deuce, my good fellow ! when Jacob had 
obtained Rachael’s hand, he didn’t consider him- 
self bound to tend sheep any longer.” 

Xavier laughed more heartily than ever. 

“ Let us unfold our plans in order,” continued 
Alphonse, delighted to see his friend in such 
good spirits. “ When I shall have realized a hun- 
dred thousand francs, I buy a beautiful country 
seat near a fine hunting ground, and I am a 
happy man. In winter, I hunt ; in summer, I 
fish ; I have a farmer, I build, I tear down — ” 
“Ah, that is grand!” exclaimed Xavier, 
throwing himself back in his arm-chair. “ He al- 
ready beholds his estate and himself lord and 
master ! What imagination ! But, my dear fel- 
low, as beautifully constructed as your romance 
may be, I am at a loss to understand how I find 


TWO COUSINS. 9 

you in Paris on your way to M. Malvarais’s 
office.” 

Alphonse arose, and regarding Xavier with an 
air of triumph, exclaimed : 

“ Ah ! I have you there ; you are off the track 
this time. I have exposed my ideas concerning 
Father Malvarais, merely as one does an ordinary 
garment that he intends changing for one of vel- 
vet. I resign to the bourgeoisie, M. Malvarais, his 
practice, his daughter, everything.” 

“And what replaces them ?” 

“A beautiful young girl, a dowry of seven 
hundred thousand francs, an estate in the heart of 
Touraine ! ” 

“ Oh, gracious ! but that is a dream ! Are you 
speaking seriously ? ” 

“ Quite seriously.” 

“ It is incredible ! ” 

“ And why ? ” replied Alphonse. “ Are you so 
very much astonished at the thought of my mar- 
rying advantageously ? ” 

“ No, no, on the contrary, I am delighted ; but 
in this world, matters are not always arranged so 
easily.” 

“ Ah ! well, I shall prove an exception to that 
rule. In fine, I must tell you how it all came 
about. You know my mother had an elder 
sister married to an Austrian general, the Baron 
de Grenaff.” 


10 


RENEE’S MARRIAGE. 


“ Yes, I remember seeing your uncle five or 
six years ago, at an entertainment given to the 
Minister of War.” 

“Yes, he was in Paris, but he did not make 
our acquaintance. Oh ! he was a bear, a miser.” 

“ I believe he is dead.” 

“ Yes, thank God ! ” 

“ Oh ! ” 

“Yes, thank God, I say. This ejaculation en- 
ters into my story, and should no more be sup- 
pressed than the rest of it. Well, to continue, 
he left my Aunt Aurelie a widow after having 
held her aloof for thirty years from the world 
which she loved to distraction. As to the Gen- 
eral, he cared for nothing but his books, and de- 
voted his money to works of philanthropy among 
superannuated soldiers.” 

“ Did you not just say that he was miserly ? ” 

“Yes, as regards any diversion or pleasure it 
was impossible to get a cent out of him. 
He allowed my aunt a stipulated sum for her 
wardrobe, but beyond that sum you could not 
persuade him to buy her even a pair of gloves. 
On seeing her embarrassed to pay her debts, he 
would say harshly, “ So much the worse for 
you ! buying such numbers of dresses, was alto- 
gether unnecessary ? ’ Oh ! she was very un- 
happy ! ” 

“ Evidently,” replied Xavier in a tone of slight 


TWO COUSINS. 


II 


irony. He had been acquainted with an inti- 
mate friend of the Baron, and knew the true 
story of M. de Gr£naff’s severity and his wife’s 
extravagance. 

“ Since becoming a widow, she makes her 
money fly,” resumed the nephew, advocating the 
cause of his happily inspired aunt. “ But the old 
miser left her no great things ; however, she has 
sufficient to travel on.” 

“ Come, let us get to the part that concerns 
yourself,” interrupted Xavier, casting a glance 
at his watch. “ I have but five more minutes to 
give you.” 

“ I am not straying from my subject. I have 
told you that my aunt spends her time travel- 
ling ; and last winter she met at Nice, a Belgian 
family, consisting of the following members : the 
father, M. Vangaramenghen, a banker ; his wife ; 
a daughter nineteen years of age, by his first wife ; 
and two children by the second Mme. Vangar- 
amenghen, a charming, elegant, thorough 
woman of the world, with whom my aunt became 
very intimate. During the six weeks of a win- 
ter’s trip, they were constantly together, mingling 
in every amusement, and one not able to do 
without the other. At this time, the eldest 
daughter was not with her parents. She had 
been placed at a convent by a maternal grand- 
aunt, her godmother ; and, as, on the one hand, 


12 


RENEE’S MARRIAGE. 


she was perfectly satisfied there, whilst on the 
other, her stepmother was not extremely anx- 
ious to take charge of her, she had remained 
there up to the present time. At last, the father, 
judging that a daughter nineteen years of age, 
was old enough to take her place in the world, 
withdrew her from the convent. My aunt saw 
her at Vichy. She is very pretty, it appears, 
and has the elegant manners and bearing of a 
little duchess. But she has very strong opinions of 
her own, which clash with those of the stepmother 
For instance, at the first breakfast on Friday 
which she took at home, the presence of two guests, 
did not prevent her positively refusing to partake 
of the sumptuously served meats, to the great 
irritation of Mme. Vangaramenghen, who could 
overcome her neither by reproaches nor banter. 
The young girl seemed deeply touched, but 
remained inflexible. Her conduct was precisely 
the same, in regard to certain relations, with 
whom she would have no intercourse, certain 
opera airs that nothing could induce her to sing, 
— indeed, concerning many matters upon which 
she and Madame differed. Mile. Ren£e (that 
was her name) could not be moved an inch. But 
the important, grave affair, that which turned 
the beam it appears, took place about eight days 
ago. The whole family was in the country upon 
the estate in Touraine, which I have already 


TWO COUSINS. 


13 


mentioned as belonging to the young girl ; when 
behold, Mme. Vangaramenghen receives an 
invitation to a magnificent fancy ball where she 
would have the opportunity of dancing with a 
Swedish prince. This invitation arrived Friday 
evening, and the soiree was to take place the 
following Monday. All in vain would they be- 
stir themselves immediately, to get off Saturday, 
— it was an impossibility for their apparel must 
be in readiness ; and to take the afternoon train 
on Sunday, would make them too late for some 
of the arrangements, consequently it was 
decided that they should start Sunday 
morning, at four o’clock, so as to reach 
Tours in time for the fastest train. But at 
this announcement, Mile. Renee declared most 
positively that she would never sacrifice a duty 
of obligation to the pleasure of attending a ball, 
and that nothing could induce her to quit the 
chateau ere hearing Mass. Mme. Vangaramen- 
ghen, perceiving her determined resistance, in a 
most excited manner laid the matter before the 
father, saying that she had no influence or con- 
trol over Mile. Ren£e, who was only a source of 
torment and worry to her — in fine, she begged 
him to decide the question. The young girl it 
appears did not defend her cause badly ; for the 
father gave as his decision, that since the wife 
spoke in the name of pleasure, and the daughter, 


14 


RENEE’S MARRIAGE. 


of her conscience, he could not sacrifice the 
latter to the former ; consequently, Mile. Ren6e 
would set out with him either Sunday evening or 
Monday morning, leaving Mme. Vangaramenghen 
free to make her own arrangements, and to depart 
sooner if she so desired. Piqued beyond expres- 
sion the wife accepted this compromise, and 
started on her journey before dawn, accompanied 
by her two children and a maid. M. Vangaramen- 
ghen was to follow with the rest of the family. 
In all their travels heretofore Monsieur had 
attended to the baggage. I know not how 
Madame managed hers this time, but it so 
happened, that whilst she was on her way to 
Paris, the trunk (just think of it, the trunk con- 
taining the toilette for a prince’s ball !) was 
going towards Montpellier.” 

Here Alphonse was interrupted by Xavier’s 
peals of laughter. The young man laughed until 
he cried. Nor could Alphonse help laughing. 

“ You can well imagine the horror of such a mis- 
hap, — to have risen eight hours earlier than usual, 
to have vexed her lord and master (for M. Van- 
garamenghen was far from being pleased), to have 
had the fatigue and bother of the trip, all to end 
in so supremely ridiculous a manner, her missing 
the opportunity of dancing with His Highness, 
not to speak of the loss of a dress, costing five 
thousand or six thousand francs ! So, that when 


TWO COUSINS. 


15 


two days later, M. and Mile. Vangaramenghen 
reached Paris, they were overwhelmed with such 
reproaches, such an outburst of wrath, that Mon- 
sieur, comprehending the impossibility of a con- 
tinuance of this state of affairs, declared that his 
daughter should be married within six weeks ! 
This was indeed the only practicable means of 
separating the two women. The future must 
shape itself in accordance with this decision. The 
young girl, possessing already seven hundred 
thousand francs, besides the chateau, and a pro- 
spective fortune nearly as great from a relative 
whose sole heiress she is, has no need of riches in 
her suitor. It is necessary only that he be a young 
man of good family, unsullied reputation, agreea- 
ble address, educated — in fine, just what your 
humble servant believes himself to be. My aunt, 
who extols me to the skies, because, as she says, 
I amuse her, instantly seized upon the project of 
marriage, and heartily entered into their plans, 
as her friend laid bare the story of these griefs 
and trials. * Oh ! exclaimed she, ‘ I can manage 
all this for you ; my own nephew is the very per- 
son, a delightful young man.' 

“ ‘ Bravo ! ’ exclaimed Mme. Vangaramenghen, 
* do telegraph for him for I shall have no peace 
until I get rid of that little fool.’ My aunt, how- 
ever, thought it best to speak to the father, be- 
fore acquainting me with the good news. The 


i6 


RENEE’S MARRIAGE. 


father asked her numberless questions about me. 
My good aunt’s replies were satisfactory, and she 
also gave him a list of references in case he 
wished to pursue his inquiries. Everything looks 
favorable ; I have been sent for in haste, I ar- 
rived yesterday evening, as you know ; to-day, I 
dine with my aunt ; then, we repair to a third 
house, I do not yet know whose, I see her , she 
sees me, we are mutally delighted, of that I am 
assured in advance, I beholding in her the bril- 
iancy of a million, she saluting in me, freedom ; 
and, in a month, at most, Mile. Vangaramenghen 
becomes Mme. Alphonse de Montpollin.” 

“ Gauthier has disappeared,” said Xavier sadly. 

“ No, but we shall put it Gauthier de Montpol- 
lin for a while. How, in conscience, my dear 
fellow, could you wish me to offer a woman of such 
position so plain and simple a name as Gauthier, 
one borne by about ten thousand individuals?” 

“ Others, however found it all-sufficient,” gent- 
ly replied the young man; “ it is a name, which 
in your province, recalls ancient and precious 
souvenirs. Your mother was content with it, and 
for twenty-two years mine likewise bore it joy- 
ously.” 

“ Yes, but when the opportunity offered of ex- 
changing it for the title of Viscountess de Bois 
Roughs, she did not slight the chance.” 

Xavier shook his head. He thought of the 


TWO COUSINS. 17 

deep and holy love that had united his parents, 
and Alphonse’s words wounded him. 

“ Vanity and pride had no share in determi- 
ning my mother’s choice,” said he. 

“Well,” replied Alphonse somewhat curtly, 
“ vanity, I hope will aid that of Mile. Vangara- 
menghen, and I shall be just as well pleased if it 
does.” 

Xavier made no reply. Legal possessor of a 
title, and one of the oldest names in Poitou, he 
considered it indelicate to pursue the discussion 
upon this subject envolving his loyalty of charac- 
ter, his love for his mother, and respect for the 
heritage of honor, accompanying a name long 
venerated. In a few moments, he said gravely, 

“ Alphonse, what you have told me about this 
young girl, gives me great confidence that she 
will make you happy. She is beautiful and rich, 
that is all very well ; but what strikes me most, is 
her courageous Christian character. If, as ap- 
pears most probable at present, she becomes your 
wife, I hope you will not replace the stepmother 
in the combat.” 

“ Oh ! no, I pledge you my word, no. Do not 
worry yourself, my dear fellow, on that point. I 
shall allow her to be as great a Christian and dev- 
otee as she wishes. I do not intend to interfere 
such in matters ; she shall have no fault to find 
with me there. Since I know the disagreeable 


RENEE’S MARRIAGE. 


18 

side of her character, if I marry her all the same, 
it is because I do not object to it.” 

“ Ah ! do you call that the disagreeable side ? ” 

“ Well, it is what causes disagreements ; if you 
wish it, I will turn my phrase thus. I am not com- 
plaining of it, on the contrary, I can say, that I 
should prefer a wife having some spirit.” 

“So much the better,” said Xavier rising. “I 
will be here to-morrow, about the same time, and 
no doubt shall find you. If, however, you do go 
out, remember that I am home at five o’clock. 
I leave the office at four.” 

“ You go regularly then to the office ? ” 

“ Always ; it is the exception that I am free to- 
day.” 

“ My dear fellow, you paralyze me ; at your age, 
and with your fortune, to tie yourself down to 
such a tiresome life ! ” 

“ I do not view it in that light, far from it in- 
deed, I am delighted. If condemned to live in 
idleness I should die.” 

“ But one ought to know how to occupy him- 
self.” 

“Use a better expression, and say that one 
ought to know how to work,” replied Xavier 
smiling, and pressing for a last time the hand the 
handsome Alphonse had placed in his. “ Good- 
by, then, till to-morrow, either here or at my 
house. I will announce your arrival to my mother 


TWO COUSINS. 


19 

and sister, but without fixing the day for you to 
come, so as to leave you free.” 

“You are right indeed, for I am really obliged 
to multiply myself as it were. I must go here, 
go there, to my aunt’s, to my patron’s, to my be- 
trothed’s. Fortunately, I am as nimble and ac- 
tive as formerly when I climbed the walls, and 
ran after the stage-coach until I overtook it. Do 
you recollect ? ” 

“Yes, yes, I recollect your exploits,” said Xa- 
vier, endeavoring to disengage his arm which 
Alphonse had seized. “ But do let me go, Al- 
phonse, I am late now.” 

“ It is too soon, it seems such a little while 
since you came in. Have you a cab waiting for 
you.” 

“Yes, but stop your nonsense, for seriously, I 
must go, I am expected to meet some one on 
business.” 

“ Well, go, slave of duty, and think of me this 
evening.” 

“ I will,” said Xavier, as he darted down the 
stairway. Alphonse re-entered his chamber again, 
threw himself back again in the arm-chair, 
lighted a fifth cigar, and placing his feet upon the 
andirons, remained thus, fixing his eyes upon the 
light bluish cloud escaping from his pure Havana, 
and indulging in the following reflections. 

“ What an original this Xavier is ! that he is a 


20 


RENEE’S MARRIAGE. 


delightful fellow no one can deny, refined and ele- 
gant, a gentleman to the very tips of his nails. 
But it is really incredible that he, only twenty- 
five years of age, possessor of a handsome title 
and sixty thousand livres of rent should spend his 
time scratching paper in an office, or, teaching mo- 
rality and religion to a crowd of little vagabonds, 
when he might lead a most delightful life. And 
then for him to ride in a hack or omnibus like a 
poor man, when he could have not one only, but 
three handsome private carriages. Truly does he 
verify the old adage that there are people of all 
sorts of tastes in this world ! ” 

Meanwhile, Xavier moving along in a vehicle 
drawn by a jaded horse, pondered what he had 
just heard. 

“ Poor Alphonse ! ” thought he, “ what a weak 
character! However, he is not bad, though it seems 
wonderful that with his education he should have 
escaped so far unscathed. But he is too trifling, 
his thoughts never straying beyond his apparel, 
his cigar, the chase. Though destitute of fortune, 
he has never yet succeeded in settling himself in 
any business or profession. He has made several 
attempts to do so, but in vain ; for everything de- 
manded too much exactitude or work beyond his 
desires, which latter is not astonishing, as his 
desires are to do nothing. Can he really have 
found, as he hopes, the long sought for opening? 


TWO COUSINS. 


21 


And even if so, how will he make use of it — but 
more than all, what will be the fate of this young 
girl ? Poor child ! at the very threshold of woman- 
hood, cast into a godless family, as a burden of 
which they strive to rid themselves, she has cour- 
ageously kept God’s laws. Ah ! Providence will 
not abandon her. If she marries Alphonse, I 
shall most assuredly assist her by every means in 
my power in trying to implant a few serious 
thoughts in his empty mind, and to render his 
light, trifling heart accessible to a ray of divine 
love. What sad prospects life holds out for her ! 
Although she would be no longer the subject of 
incessant contradictions, if married to Alphonse, 
yet, what must it not be to live in a complete isola- 
tion of soul from a husband indifferent to religion, 
who later, may destroy, one by one, even uninten- 
tionally, all the principles of piety with which she, 
poor woman, will strive to imbue their little ones. 
And such are the marriages of the present day, 
often when there is a mother to watch over her 
child’s welfare ! how much more deplorable 
the case when her tenderness is replaced by 
the mistrust and unkindness of a stranger ! 
Oh ! the many sad spectacles this world pre- 
sents ! ” 

Xavier sighed, and changing the course of his 
reflections, took from his pocket a package, and 
from this, a letter, which he read and re-read atten- 


22 


RENEE’S MARRIAGE. 


tively so as to become thoroughly acquainted 
with its contents. 

“ Six thousand francs’ salary ! What a godsend 
this would be to dear Etienne. The old grand- 
mother could then have her coffee, and the sisters 
their new dresses — it would not be at all extrava- 
gant. What a pity they are so proud. My 
mother would take great pleasure in assisting all of 
them, young and old, but she dares not mention 
the subject. Oh ! the contrast between Etienne 
and Alphonse ! ” Xavier’s eyes again sought 
the open letter in his hands. Its contents ran 
thus. 

“ Dear Xavier : 

“ I address myself to you with 
all the confidence of a friend. Just now there is 
a vacancy in one of the public departments which 
pays a salary of six thousand francs per annum. 
Far be it from me to complain of my lot, when I 
say what you already know, that the profession of 
a barrister, though noble, always leaves the ma- 
terial side of things very uncertain; and in my po- 
sition, I cannot neglect this important question. 
I have been told that you are acquainted with 
the Marquise de Valbret de Manlouars, sister-in- 
law of the present Minister, and that one word 
from this holy woman would have great weight in 
deciding her relative’s choice. May I ask you 
then to lay my petition before her? I know it 
could not be in better hands than yours, dear 
friend. Excuse me for not coming in person to 
confer with you on the subject. All that prevents 


TWO COUSINS. 23 

my doing so is a pressing business engagement, 
demanding much time and labor. Believe me, 
Your most devoted friend, 

Etienne Malhouet.” 

‘‘If not too late, we shall gain the battle,” mur- 
mured Xavier, smiling in anticipation of the hap- 
piness with which he could say to his friend, 
“The field is ours, we have succeeded.” 

At this moment the horse stopped, and the 
young man perceived that he had reached his 
destination, a handsome dwelling in the Rue de 
Sevres. 


CHAPTER II. 


OBLIGED TO WAIT. 

Xavier dismissed the vehicle. Entering the 
vestibule of this elegant mansion, he ascended 
the broad, beautiful staircase, and stopping at a 
door opening on the first floor, he rang the bell. 
It was opened by an old domestic in livery, who 
exclaimed : 

‘‘Oh! M. Viscount! Madame, the Marquise 
has not yet returned. That stupid porter knew 
it, and let you come all the way up.” 

“ No, it was not his fault,” answered Xavier de- 
cidedly, “ I was so sure of finding Mme. de Val- 
bret, that I did not even stop to inquire of 
him.” 

“ It is M. the Viscount de Bois Roughs,” 
said a voice at the end of the vestibule, and an- 
other domestic equally aged and prepossessing 
in appearance hastily approached. 

“ Madame went out to remain until three 
o’clock,” said he. “ She wrote to Monsieur to 
defer his proposed visit until that hour. I posted 
the letter myself yesterday.” 

“ I did not receive it.” 


OBLIGED TO WAIT. 2 5 

“ Is it possible ? How disagreeable,” exclaimed 
the two old men as Xavier continued : 

“ Oh ! well, the delay is of no great importance; 
the essential part is that I see Mme. de Valbret 
to-day. I shall return at three o’clock, and if 
Madame is not home by that time, I shall wait 
until she comes.” 

“ Perhaps Monsieur would prefer waiting now,” 
said one of the servants. 

“ No, as it lacks an hour of the appointed time, 
I will step out awhile.” 

A smile of intelligence, flitting over the fea- 
tures of the two old men, proved that Xavier was 
understood. 

“Just as Monsieur wishes,” said they, as the 
young man descended the steps, making with his 
hands a gesture of adieu and thanks. 

“ What a good countenance, Pierre !” said one 
of the old men, closing the door. 

“Yes, indeed, and if every one were like him, the 
world would be much better than it is,” replied 
the other, turning to wipe the silver plates he had 
just left. 

“ Don’t you think he somewhat resembles our 
poor, dear M. Jean?” 

“ Oh ! poor, dear M. Jean ! M. de Bois Roughs 
is very fine and elegant looking, to be sure, but he 
can’t equal our dear young master, whom I never 
think of as dressed in this way, but always as I 


26 


RENEE’S MARRIAGE. 


last saw him in his white habit, his eyes closed, an 
angel indeed ! In seeing him thus, one was lifted 
above earth.” 

And the old man after passing his hand several 
times over his eyes, finished by saying ; 

“ Here, Jacques, wipe this silver, for I cannot 
do it, I run the risk of tarnishing it.” 

But Jacques was likewise unable to wipe the 
silver, the same tears of emotion coursing down 
the cheeks of both these humble friends, who 
mourned the death of their master’s only son. 

Xavier had “stepped out” as he spoke of do- 
ing, — that is, he had repaired to the chapel of the 
sons of St. Ignatius, and was now absorbed in 
prayer, his eyes fixed upon the glittering slabs 
enclosing the bodies of the holy martyrs. A mys- 
terious twilight enveloped the sanctuary, and a 
vague perfume of incense was still floating around. 
From those interlacing arches, those walls covered 
with holy images, those altars adorned with flow- 
ers, those crimson crowns, those sepulchral stones, 
chanting sweetness and glory in death, came 
peace and strength to the soul. 

Happy are they who know how to snatch them- 
selves from the activity of the outward life, and 
take refuge a moment in this blessed enclosure, 
as in a peaceful, shady island that the hand of 
Providence has raised up amidst the waves of a 
torrent ! 


OBLIGED TO WAIT. 


2 7 


Xavier’s eyes were fixed upon the marble slabs 
recording the names that an impious hatred has 
made great for eternity : Olivaint, Clerc, de Ben- 
gy, Ducondray, Caubert. 

“ O my God,” he murmured, “have I understood 
Thee ? Dost Thou indeed permit me to as- 
pire so high ? Ah! it is the virtues of my mother 
Thou art going to recompense in me. Have pity 
on my weakness ! ” 

He had been thus absorbed in meditation 
about half an hour, when he was disturbed by the 
noise of a chair gliding over the chapel floor. He 
now perceived that his solitude was shared by 
a young girl who had just fallen on her knees, a 
few steps from him, before the altar of the mar- 
tyrs. Her clasped hands rested upon the back of 
a kneeling stool; her head was raised, and her gaze 
riveted upon the three blessed ones, who with 
their victorious crosses, adorn the teredos. 

The light of a votive taper illumined her coun- 
tenance. Alas ! the sorrows of life had doubtless 
already shaded this young existence, for years 
flowed from those eyes fixed upon the image of 
the martyrs, and an expression of mingled pride, 
love and sorrow gave a poetic grandeur to feat- 
ures beautiful of themselves. Such must have 
been the aspect of Cecilia and Agnes, those an- 
gels of purity, courage and hope, as they threw 
themselves on their knees in the catacombs be- 


28 


RENEE’S MARRIAGE. 


fore the mangled bodies of their martyred breth- 
ren. 

Xavier was filled with an involuntary feeling of 
astonishment and admiration. He felt confidence 
in this young stranger, and his thoughts at once 
reverted to Poland and her heroic children. But 
in exile, the daughters of Poland are poor and 
wear the mourning of their country; whilst this 
Christian maiden, on the contrary, was dressed 
with an elegance and taste, betokening fortune 
and position, neither of which, however, could 
conceal the bleeding heart that throbbed beneath 
the rich apparel. 

“ Ah! here is a soul that suffers,” said Xavier, 
adding the next moment, 

“If so, O my God, do Thou sustain it, and 
may its tears obtain of Thee, that which it comes 
hither to seek ! ” 

He passed out noiselessly, fearing to disturb a 
fervent prayer, and judging it near the appointed 
hour for Madame to return, he went at once to 
the house. 

Said old Pierre, “ Madame is still out, and we 
are beginning to get anxious, for she is always so 
punctual.” 

It is not quite three o’clock,” replied Xavier, 
“ so do not worry about her return. I came a 
little in advance, lest I should cause her to wait 
for me.” 


OBLIGED TO WAIT. 


2 9 


“ Ah ! indeed Monsieur,” said the old man, a 
smile illumining his honest face. “Jacques must 
have made a mistake in thinking he heard it 
sound three o’clock from the good Fathers. 
And besides, Monsieur, we are always anxious 
when Madame goes any distance in the city, for 
so many accidents happen in Paris, every day, 
and our dear lady is no longer young.” 

Speaking thus the old servant opened the door 
of a little parlor, advanced an arm-chair and 
raised one of the window blinds. When all was 
arranged to his satisfaction, making a respectful 
inclination, he retired, saying: “I hope Monsieur 
may not have to wait long.” 

Xavier now took up a pamphlet lying upon the 
table and glanced through it ; he then did the 
same with a number of the Union left half open, 
and finally, he began to look around him, care- 
fully examining all the contents of this familiar 
room, which he had seen numberless times, but 
without giving them any special attention. 

The Marquise’s little parlor was an octagon 
shaped apartment, with high ceiling and facing 
the east. Its sombre hangings displayed to advan- 
tage a portrait by Velasquez, not surpassed in 
beauty by a Correggio upon the adjoining panel. 
From three sides of the walls hung Aubusson 
tapestries concealing three doors, one of which 
opened into the vestibule, another into the grand 


30 


RENEE’S. MARRIAGE. 


reception room, and a third into Mme. de Valbret’s 
chamber. A mantel-piece ornamented with an 
armorial lambrequin and a window occupied two 
other sides of the room, whilst before the eighth 
side was placed an old leathern arm-chair, rough 
and common, singularly enough out of place 
amidst such surroundings, had it not been for the 
little stool before it covered with India carpet, 
and the placard of cedar upon the back, bearing 
this inscription: “ May 12th, 1647, in visiting 
the Marquis Hugues de Valbret , St. Vincent de 
Paul sat in this chair P The traditions of the 
family say that it was in a rustic hunting pavilion, 
the apostle of charity thus honored the Marquis ; 
also, that the result of their interview was the 
foundation of a church on a portion of the estate, 
hitherto deprived of all religious privileges. 

The other pieces of furniture in the room, 
though more than sufficient as regards number, 
were very incongruous ; and it was easily seen 
that not taste so much as a desire to preserve me- 
mentoes had guided the selection. For instance, a 
handsome and expensive Boule table supported a 
very ordinary writing desk ; a Sevres clock had two 
of its beautiful flowers concealed by a little plaster 
Madonna ; miniatures from the hands of acknowl- 
edged artists lay in precious caskets amidst a col- 
lection of other objects not only apparently value- 
less, but indeed of doubtful freshness. One felt 


OBLIGED TO WAIT. 


31 


that a soul lived amidst these relics, the most 
ancient of which recalled past splendors, the most 
trifling and insignificant, tenderness and perhaps 
sorrow. This impression would have been con- 
firmed had one attempted to open the door leading 
to the reception room ; but it was carefully closed, 
thus forming an impassable barrier between those 
general relations, and those inmost thoughts which 
gave to every object of this little parlor, language 
and strong powers of attraction. The door of 
the chamber, on the contrary was open, and be- 
hind the tapestry concealing it, one heard the 
music of a bird, — sweet and innocent distraction 
of this solitary fireside. The most striking- 
feature however in this apartment seeming- 
ly chosen as a depositary and guardian of the 
past, was a picture suspended on the wall, just 
above the arm-chair so honored by St. Vincent 
de Paul. Could this picture be a portrait, or was 
it only the image of a fleeting vision ? It repre- 
sented a young man upon his bier. The head 
was of a most aristocratic type, and at the same 
time, of celestial beauty. The eyes were closed, 
the hands clasped ; thoughts of heaven had im- 
parted to the lips a smile which death had fixed 
upon them forever. He was clothed in the 
Dominican habit, and a wooden cross rested upon 
his heart. 

In gazing upon the picture, one was filled with 


32 


RENEE’S MARRIAGE. 


an indefinable impression, too calm for melancholy, 
an impression approaching even to the sublime. 
This work bore no signature, though traced by 
a skilful hand — the artist was forgotten in the 
presence of his model. On the bottom of the 
frame were inscribed three dates : April 12, 1840 — 
December 8, 1861 — May 20, 1863. Crowns of 
roses ornamented the upper corners, and at each 
side, upon little oaken stands, bloomed the last 
chrysanthemums of the season. 

As Xavier contemplated this picture, his 
countenance was illumined with the same 
expression it had worn in the martyrs’ 
chapel. 

“ Jean,” murmured he, “I scarcely knew you, 
for I was still a child when you left home, and 
yet I can never forget you. I shall always re- 
member your last kiss, and especially your last 
words. You had taken me upon your knee ; look- 
ing at me with a smile you said, ‘ Be good, Xavier, 
be good even little as you are. There are so 
many foolish ones, notwithstanding their years.’ 
You were right, ‘ the number of fools, ’ says Holy 
Scriptures, * is infinite.’ You, even at twenty 
years of age, comprehended this truth. . . . 
Pray for me, aid me. Prove to me now by your 
assistance, how powerful is the intercession of a 
friend in Heaven.” 

Xavier remained a long time contemplating 


OBLIGED TO WAIT. 33 

the picture ; at last, seating himself again, he 
said with a sigh, 

“ My poor Etienne ! Every passing moment 
sweeps away a part of his advantages and 
hopes ! ” 

Just then the time-piece sounded half-past 
three o’clock, and at the same instant, was heard 
the closing of the vestibule door. Xavier arose, 
giving vent to his relief in an audible, 

“At last!” 


CHAPTER III. 


ALPHONSE’S AGILITY. 

For a considerable length of time has M. de 
Bois Roughs been forced to practice patience. 
Having apparently reached the moment when his 
trial seems at an end, let us leave him to realize 
whether or not his hopes were premature, and now 
turn to Alphonse. We last saw him reclining in- 
dolently in the soft blue arm-chair, warming his 
feet, and bewailing, oh ! bewailing most sincerely, 
his cousin’s indifference to the goods of this life. 
He then spent about an hour revolving in his 
mind the compliments he must address Mile. 
Vangaramenghen, or, rather the stepmother, for it 
seemed to him at first very important to his 
cause that he should secure the favor of the 
latter however, as she was determined to get rid of 
her stepdaughter at all events, the question as- 
sumed another aspect — Madame’s favor did not 
count for so much. He pondered this weighty 
matter, and at last decided that he had better 
exert his best efforts to please the young lady her- 
self. 

Having settled this momentous point, he now 


ALPHONSE’S AGILITY. 


35 


began to think of the most agreeable manner in 
which he could pass the three intervening hours 
between the present and his interview with his 
aunt and dear auxiliary, the Baroness de Gre- 
naff. 

For the last fortnight, nature had been wrapped 
in November’s humid, melancholy veil, and a 
stroll in the woods was out of the question. Al- 
phonse clearly understood that he must carefully 
regulate his expenses, especially now when on 
the eve of marriage. 

“ Xavier economizes from taste, I from neces- 
sity,” he murmured with a touch of ill humor, 
“ that is where we differ.” 

He rang the bell. One of the attendants ap- 
peared. “ Bring me to-day’s journals,” said Al- 
phonse. 

The servant returned bringing ten. 

“ Does Monsieur think he will need them 
long?” said the latter, laying the big pile on the 
table. 

“ About five minutes,” was the young man’s 
answer. 

This specified time, though short indeed, was 
not consumed. In the first paper he unfolded, 
Alphonse saw the announcement of a concert to 
be given by two performers in a private hall near 
the Palais Royal. The tickets were offered at a 
moderate price. 


36 


RENEE’S MARRIAGE. 


“ Here is the very thing,” said he. 

Then continuing to read, “ It will commence at 
half past two precisely.” 

“ Plague ! ” he exclaimed, “ I have but an hour 
in which to dress and get there ! ” 

He immediately began to make his toilette, 
and let us remember that this same toilette was 
to be that of his presentation in the evening. 
The extreme care bestowed upon it merited real 
success. When, after much consulting of his 
mirror it assured him that he was irreproachable 
in appearance, both as regards elegance of man- 
ner and fashionable attire, hastening from his 
room, to avoid being late, he determined to take, 
not a carriage, for alas ! the stands were all empty, 
but “ the chariot accessible to all,” as the poet 
says, — the omnibus, to call it by its proper name, 
— the omnibus, of which we must not speak ill, 
for if it be the most ordinary means of transport, 
it is likewise the most accommodating and easy to 
obtain. 

Bewailing the necessity of using a vehicle so 
plebeian, and enjoying in anticipation plans and 
scenes wherein the handsomest and most stylish 
carriages were at his command, Alphonse reached 
the office which opens on the street, and inquired 
for the Palais Royal omnibus. 

Malediction ! 53 was the number handed him 
and the roll commenced at 14. Indignantly reject- 


ALPHONSE’S AGILITY. 


37 


in g the card assigning his place among those in 
waiting like himself, he walked rapidly towards 
the Rue Lepelletier. 

“ I shall find the vehicle, “ thought he,” and 
perhaps be able to secure a seat. As to waiting 
there in that silly crowd, never ! ” 

The rolling mass appeared in the Rue Notre- 
Dame de Lorette. It could be descried from afar, 
shaking the group perched upon it, and towering 
above all other vehicles near, as the elephants of 
Pyrrhus amidst the horses. Suddenly, it slack- 
ens its course. An aged woman dressed in black 
and carrying a satchel the weight of which appears 
too much for her, claims its hospitality. But the 
road is impeded, the omnibus cannot stop immedi- 
ately, and although the poor woman makes every 
effort she cannot reach it. At last, there remains 
but one street to cross. A carriage now appears, 
and to avoid this new obstacle, she attempts to run. 
Just at this moment, a young man darts out of 
the Rue de Chateaubriand, and from the distance, 
raises as a signal, the cane in his hand. The con- 
ductor answers by a negative sign. But, at a glance, 
the young man comprehends the situation and 
bounds forward. Gracious ! what agility ! in this 
respect, nature has beyond a doubt, most marvel- 
lously endowed him. In two bounds he has 
cleared the distance, and, in yet another, the high 
step. He enters, he takes his seat, whilst the 


38 


RENEE'S MARRIAGE. 


old woman’s trembling fingers have not yet 
touched the iron bar. 

“Full!” cries the conductor, showing the dis- 
couraging placard. 

“ Alas ! ” sighs the old lady. 

A laugh mingled with silly remarks is elicited 
from a few occupants of the omnibus, in which 
vulgar gayety, however, the young victor takes 
no part, the only expression he betrays of having 
even observed it being a contemptuous curl of 
the lip. Throwing out of the open window the 
stump of a cigar which he held in his fingers, he 
takes from his pocket the day’s Figaro, and 
quietly settles himself to its perusal, without giv- 
ing himself any concern either as to his victim or 
his surroundings. But suddenly, an indignant 
voice is heard at the farther end of the omnibus. 

“ Stop, conductor, stop immediately ! ” it says. 

The unwieldy vehicle which had just made a 
move, preparatory to resuming its course, again 
comes to a halt. A pale, dignified, aristocratic 
looking young man arises, and, with contracted 
brows, passes in front of the much-amused indi- 
viduals who now murmur aloud, and the sprightly, 
agile walker, who bestows upon him a glance of 
impertinence as if resenting his conduct. All 
understand the meaning of this sudden resolu- 
tion. Having reached the step, the young man 
awaits the old lady’s approach. He respectfully 


ALPHONSE’S AGILITY. 


39 


offers her his hand, assists her into the omnibus r 
and making a slight salutation, is about to move 
off. 

‘‘Your fare,” says the conductor. 

“ Sure enough,” he replies, handing him the 
ticket, “ I had forgotten it.” 

The old lady looks around at these words. 
They confirm her in the opinion that this passen- 
ger has not finished his journey, especially as his 
gait on turning away is most rapid. She watches 
him until the increasing distance hides him from 
view. As for himself, he never dreams of observ- 
ing closely enough to remember, the individual he 
has so charitably assisted. And, indeed, it was 
scarcely possible for him to do so, as she had 
merely passed him and a thick veil covered her 
face. Beneath this veil, he had perceived only 
the long white curls, shading features of an 
aquiline cast which were illumined by a pair of 
unusually bright eyes. He was not near enough 
for a scrutinizing examination, and moreover, 
what young man would trouble himself seriously 
about such a poor old woman, evidently of a very 
humble class ? Her garments were scrupulously 
neat and clean, but likewise inexpensive, her 
dress being of very ordinary material, and also the 
black shawl wrapped around her shoulders. 
Doubtless, she belonged to that innumerable fam- 
ily of the poor and needy, although her voice had 


40 


RENEE’S MARRIAGE. 


a ring of refinement as she thanked the young 
man who assisted her into the omnibus, and a 
hand of rare whiteness and delicacy for one 
accustomed to manual labor was revealed, as she 
drew off her woollen glove to search her porte- 
monnaie for the omnibus fare. 

Now that her charitable assistant has disap- 
peared, she directs her glances towards her agile 
adversary, who, utterly unconcerned remains 
absorbed by an article in his favorite journal. 
He smiles. 

“ That rascal of a fellow, Villemessant ! ” thinks 
he, “ upon my word, it is incredible ! ” 

However, this agreeable reading must be inter- 
rupted. Their path suddenly widens ; on the 
right, are fountains leaping in the air; and on the 
left, a colonnade protecting pedestrians. Behold 
the Palais Royal with its degenerated splendors, 
its ignominious souvenirs. Why is it that this 
magnificent structure seems to have possessed the 
sad power of giving birth to guilty rivalries, for 
here originated much that sapped and under- 
mined an ancient loyalty ? But in politics, as in 
fairy tales, arrows frequently turn back against 
those who send them. Alas ! — but let us return 
to our travellers, and think no' more about this 
palace denied the presence of its true hosts. 

The omnibus stops. Alphonse descends first, 
and darts down the Rue Saint Honors in time to 


ALPHONSE’S AGILITY. 


41 


hear the close of the concert. Several other pas- 
sengers also get off at this point, among them the 
old lady. On rising to leave her seat, she per- 
ceives for the first time, a little package which 
some one had evidently forgotten. She picks it 
up and opens it. The contents are only a few 
notes in pencil, and about twenty cards bearing 
an address. 

A lady opposite bends over and says, 

“ It belongs to the young man who occupied 
the seat just before you came in. I saw him take 
it from his pocket. Give it to the conductor.” 

“ No, it is not necessary to do that,” replies 
the old lady, “ I will take charge of it myself and 
see that it is sent to the address indicated.” 

So saying, she puts the package in her satchel, 
and in turn descends from the omnibus. 

She stands waiting ; carriages pass, but all are 
filled. 

“ Vaugirard, is it you ? ” inquires a woman 
near, who, sighs deeply at each disappoint- 
ment. 

“ Yes, alas ! ” is the answer. 

“ Yes, but you have plenty of time to wait! ” 

“ On the contrary, that is just what I doubt, 
I don’t think I have,” says our old lady, cau- 
tiously taking out a heavily cased watch, chased 
in the Louis XVI. style and ornamented with 
rubies, — a most beautiful and valuable article. 


42 


RENEE’S MARRIAGE. 


She perceives that it is now four minutes past 
three. 

“ It is impossible to depend on coaches,” she 
murmurs. “ That poor child is waiting. Here- 
after, when I go out on such missions, I will 
order the carriage.” 

At this instant, a coach crosses the square. 
She sees it, makes a signal, and is soon seated in 
the vehicle, congratulating herself on this provi- 
dential succor. She gives the driver her address, 
and, no doubt, a generous fee, for he whips up his 
horse, and starts off at a gallop, something very 
unusual indeed. 


CHAPTER IV. 


PLANS. 

“ At last ! It is Madame the Marquise ! ” said 
old Pierre, opening for his mistress the door be- 
hind which he had more than once lent an 
anxious ear. “ We all began to be uneasy. 
Madame must be greatly fatigued.” 

“ Not very much, thank you, but I am very 
late. And M. de Bois Roughs?” 

“ He has been waiting in the little parlor for 
the last hour.” 

“ Poor child ! go immediately and tell him of 
my return, and that I will see him at once.” 

With these words, Mme. de Valbret entered 
her chamber. A young girl dressed in the cos- 
tume of • the Bressoise peasantry was on her 
knees before the fire-place, endeavoring to en- 
kindle a flame that would dispel the utmost 
rigors of a winter’s day. 

“I was just going to ring for you, Francoise,” 
said the Marquise. “ Bring me my dress imme- 
diately.” 

Changing the plain garments she had worn in 
the street, for an elegant dress more becoming 


44 


RENEE'S MARRIAGE. 


her station, she likewise adorned her white locks 
with a morning cap of rich Mechlin point. 

“There is the pattern of the garment you are 
to make,” said she, addressing the young girl, and 
pointing to the satchel that she had laid upon a 
little stand. “Cut the sleeves somewhat longer. 
But, wait a minute.” 

Opening the satchel, which the young peasant 
promoted to the dignity of waiting-maid, had 
already seized, the Marquise drew forth a pack- 
age which she placed in her secretary. 

“You will have to be expeditious,” she added, 
“ for I promised that the garment should be tried 
on day after to-morrow.” 

“ Must I not change the ribbon bows on Mad- 
ame’s dress for this evening?” inquired the 
young girl. 

“No, no ; leave them just as they are, and devote 
your time to the coat, which is much more needed.” 

And the Marquise opened the door leading to 
the little parlor. 

“ My dear child, excuse me,” said she, pressing 
Xavier’s hand and making him take a seat beside 
her. “ I acknowledge my delinquency, but you 
know the best intentions are often thwarted by 
unforeseen obstacles.” 

“ I should be truly sorry, Madame,” replied 
Xavier, “ if I supposed, for an instant, that the 
thought of making me wait had troubled 


PLANS. 45 

you in the least or deranged any of your 
plans.” 

“ Not at all deranged them ; and besides, here I 
am, so let us think no more of the past, but give 
our attention to the present. And first of all, let 
me hear something about my old friend. I say 
old friend, because of the many years’ duration 
of our friendship, for she is at least twenty years 
my junior.” 

“You look a little younger, nevertheless, I 
think,” said Xavier smiling. However, she is 
very well, also, my sister, and I am charged with 
tendering you the affectionate regards of the one 
and sincere respects of the other.” 

“Give this to Queen Marguerite for me/’ said 
the Marquise, extending her hand towards a piece 
of rice paper covered with little Chinese figures. 
“Yesterday I received several of these. Father 
Gerbault sent them to me from Canton.” 

“ How kind you are ! ” said Xavier, “ Margue- 
rite will come herself to thank you. As to me, 
I present myself to-day as a petitioner.” 

“Indeed!” exclaimed the Marquise, “how 
much pleasure, my dear child, this affords me ! Be 
assured in advance that I will do my best for 
you.” 

“ I have presumed, Madame, to rely upon your 
kindness. I come to place in your hands the fu- 
ture of one of my dearest friends.” 


46 


RENEE’S MARRIAGE. 


“ That he is your friend is sufficient recommen- 
dation to insure my cordial support. ‘ Those 
who resemble, assemble,’ Xavier. Your friends, 
I know are worthy of you.” 

“ Indeed, Madame, you do him a wrong in 
comparing him to me,” said the young Viscount 
with considerable emotion. As for myself, that 
God has kept me from wandering in dangerous 
paths is no merit of my own. I should be very 
ungrateful, if I could ignore the blessings with 
which Providence surrounded my youth and edu- 
cation. I had the misfortune to lose my father, 
it is true; and though feeling the loss most deeply, 
I suffered in no other way from his death, for 
you know the watchful, tender care of my esti- 
mable mother. When with her or my instructors 
I was enveloped in a holy atmosphere. They 
taught me'so well how to relish honest, innocent, 
refined pleasures that I had no desire to seek any 
other. Facilitated by fortune, no rational desires 
of mine remained ungratified ; my wishes were 
even anticipated. The members of my family 
amidst whom I live are endowed with most ad- 
mirable qualities of heart and mind, and they are 
also in good health ; hence, they are a great satis- 
faction and comfort to me. Indeed, life has been 
for me as a gentle stream over which I have 
glided, impelled towards good by beloved hands; 
whilst, he of whom I speak, Madame, has had to 


PLANS. 


4 7 


struggle from his earliest youth against all man- 
ner of difficulties and trials. After witnessing the 
sufferings of his parents during all his childhood, 
he was left an orphan. The death of his mother, 
when he was but fifteen years old, constituted 
him the head of the family, consisting of an infirm 
grandmother and two sisters younger than him- 
self, — his only heritage. By dint of courage, 
labor and perseverance, he has succeeded in plac- 
ing his little sisters at the Sacred Heart convent, 
and giving the grandmother the comforts neces- 
sary to her advanced age and failing health, to 
accomplish all which has, no doubt, cost him 
great and continual struggles. In the various 
offices where he endeavored to make a living, in 
the schools where the necessary knowledge was 
to be acquired, the moral atmosphere was far 
from pure or healthy. He beheld himself sur- 
rounded by infidels and libertines. He had to 
submit to all manner of raillery, listen to sophistry 
and the seductive persuasions of the votaries of 
irreligion, and even sometimes face the hatred 
of the instructors, unable to pardon the unswerv- 
ing piety and morality of a young man of twenty, 
notwithstanding their utmost efforts to under- 
mine his Christian principles. Nothing ever suc- 
ceeded in forcing him one step out of the path 
of rectitude which he had chosen. Faith was his 
strength ; thoughts of his sisters, his segis ; and 


48 


RENEE’S MARRIAGE. 


love of his poor old grandmother, his consola- 
tion. These were enough. Twelve years passed 
amidst such trials, and he is now morally just what 
he was, when upon the benches at Vaugirard we 
studied Greek and Latin together. I am devot- 
edly attached to him, and if your influence should 
succeed in procuring him the much desired situa- 
tion, I hardly know which of us would be the 
happier and more grateful, he or I.” 

“ Truly,” said the Marquise, “I should share 
this gratitude myself, could I aid such noble 
efforts. Come, dear child, push my writing desk 
a little nearer. I will take a few notes from 
your dictation, and write immediately to my 
brother-in-law, for I shall not see M. de Biran 
before to-morrow, and this matter must not be 
deferred so long ; an hour’s delay might lose our 
case. I am of the number of those who deem 
promptness a most powerful auxiliary. However, 
I do not wish you to raise your friend’s hopes too 
high. I do not presume to think that my recom- 
mendation alone would determine my brother-in- 
law’s choice. On some subjects, there exists 
between us a certain divergence of opinion which 
though not affecting our friendship, no doubt, 
sometimes impairs my influence with him. I can- 
not really decide anything for your friend ; I can 
merely aid him. So, try then, my good Xavier, 
to find out if this young man does not know of 


PLANS. 49 

another means of approach to M. de Biran. We 
will act in concert.’' 

“Alas! Madame,” said Xavier, “like you, I 
fear my friend’s competitors may carry the day 
against him. I cannot see him before to-morrow, 
for he is now occupied in arguing a very impor- 
tant case which will doubtless engage him till 
late at night.” 

“ Is he a lawyer? ” 

“ Yes, Madame, this is his profession, an em- 
inent and noble one, which I feel convinced it 
costs him much to renounce, but he who ac- 
cepts duty conscientiously , necessarily accepts sacri- 
fice , .” 

“ From what you have told me, I feel much in. 
terested in him. A thought has just crossed my 
mind, which I believe may solve all these diffi- 
culties. I will write to my brother-in-law, warmly 
recommending your friend, and requesting him 
not to make the appointment until he sees me to- 
morrow. This evening, I receive a few friends. 
Bring this young man here this evening, so that I 
may have the pleasure in person of promising him 
my assistance. This will afford me an opportu- 
nity of conversing with him, and obtaining from his 
own lips much information that may materially 
aid his cause.” 

“ Oh! how kind you are, Madame. I will has- 
ten to inform his grandmother that he may ex- 


5o 


RENEE’S MARRIAGE. 


pect me to call for him this evening. It will give 
me much pleasure to present him to you.” 

“ You need not be in such haste,” said the Mar- 
quise laughing, as Xavier arose immediately. 
“You have forgotten one important detail, with- 
out which it would be impossible for me to des- 
ignate my proteg£, — I mean his name.” 

“ Well, really, have I not told you ? ” 

“ No, my dear child, you have not.” 

“ I am certainly very absent minded ! I must 
have been so completely absorbed in the story 
that I forgot all about the name.” 

“ So I think, for I still have acute hearing and a 
good memory.” 

“ Ah ! Madame,” exclaimed Xavier, “ I am in- 
dignant at such assurances. I have a mind to 
write the address, but no, no, I shall not do that; 
I shall only tell you the name, and that in a whis- 
per.” 

And whilst the Marquise bent forward, as if try- 
ing to catch the words which Xavier feigned to 
pronounce with extreme care, she heard him utter: 

“ M. Etienne Le Mahouet, number twenty, 
Rue de Babylon.” 

“Etienne Le Mahouet?” exclaimedMme.de 
Valbret, with a sudden start. 

“ Yes,” said Xavier, in astonishment;” are 
you acquainted with him, Madame?” 

“The name is familiar, I must have seen it 


PLANS. 


51 

somewhere,” replied the Marquise, avoiding a di- 
rect answer to the question. “You must be 
sure to bring him this evening; come just as soon 
as he is at leisure. You are perhaps astonished, 
Xavier, that I am going to have a little reception, 
and without sending your excellent mother an in- 
vitation. But listen to the explanation which I 
wish you to make my old friend.” 

“ There is no need of any, Madame.” 

“Yes, I am anxious for her to know that I 
have not forgotten her. The reception comes 
about in this way. My grandniece, Mme. de 
Broz, has just come to Paris, where she is to re- 
main only a few days, and then join her husband, 
who, as you know, is attached to the Austrian em- 
bassy. Formerly, on such, occasions, she made 
her home with her father-in-law, but M. de Broz, 
by reason of a severe attack of gout is confined to 
his country-seat. This was a great disappoint- 
ment to the poor child who had anticipated much 
pleasure in meeting her old acquaintances. She 
made me the confidante of her troubles, and laid 
her petition before me in such a manner that I 
could not refuse to replace her father-in-law, at 
least, for a simple reception. So, telling her to 
write out the list of invitations, I merely glanced 
over them, and laying aside my own personal 
friendships, concluded to make preparations for a 
reception to her friends. She is delighted ; as for 


52 


RENEE’S MARRIAGE. 


myself, my only pleasure in the matter springs 
from the thought of affording her so much. 
Some of the invited guests are strangers to me ; 
with some I have a slight acquaintance, not suf- 
ficient to awaken any feelings of interest, whilst 
others are not altogether congenial to my taste. 
Mme. de Broz took the liberty of adding a few 
names to the list of invitations that she had 
shown me at first. When she told me of it, I felt 
like scolding her for behaving so like a spoiled 
child,” added the Marquise with a smile, “ but I 
knew she would offer such pleasant and irresistible 
excuses, that in advance, I determined to approve 
of all she did. I think it better in many instances 
to act thus, ignoring or quietly passing things 
over,” she continued with a sigh. “ I say it to you, 
my child, that this gay fashionable assemblage in 
my house would never take place, and would be a 
source of much grief to me, were not my sole 
motive the desire of gratifying others.” 

At these words, she raised her eyes to the por- 
trait of the young monk. 

“ We will let the rest enjoy themselves there,” 
she added, extending her hand towards the grand 
reception room, whilst we come here to talk over 
our plans.” 

“ Yes,” answered Xavier, “since you permit it, 
we will come here that another may rejoice with 
us, at your kindness to an orphan.’ 


PLANS. 53 

And he, in turn, raised his eyes to the beautiful 
face of the young religious. 

“ Ah ! yes,” exclaimed the Marquise, “ I feel that 
he is always near me, like a second guardian an- 
gel.” 

She extended Xavier a hand trembling with 
emotion, which he took and respectfully pressed 
to his lips. 

“ This evening then, Madame,” said he, rising. 

The Marquise inclined her head, and as Xavier 
lifted the Aubusson portiere to take his departure, 
she smiled an adieu. 

Just as the young Viscount was descending the 
stairs he heard a woman’s voice pronounce Mme. 
de Valbret’s name. 

“ She is at home,” said the porter, whose room 
was just under the turn of the staircase. 

The rustling of a silk dress immediately an- 
nounced the visitor’s approach, and just as Xavier 
reached the last step, a lady emerged from a re- 
cess in the vestibule, and placed her hand upon 
the railing. Xavier, hat in hand, drew back a few 
steps to let her pass, and then, as she thanked 
him by a modest inclination, he bowed respect- 
fully, recognizing to his astonishment, the young 
girl he had just seen praying and weeping in the 
Jesuit church. 

At this very hour, a considerable distance from 


54 


RENEE’S MARRIAGE. 


the scene we have just witnessed, Alphonse 
stood at the dwelling of his aunt, the Baroness de 
Grenaff, which was situated in a disagreeable, 
uninviting street, to which, however, the prox- 
imity of the Champs Elysees lent a savor of aris- 
tocratic gentility. A servant whose frizzed hair 
was ornamented with a bow of ribbon, introduced 
him into the parlor. There, a lady was seated 
upon a little sofa, reading, both feet, which dis- 
played Algerian slippers, held up to the fire. 
Hearing Alphonse’s footsteps, followed by his 
voice saluting her with a pleasant, “ Good morning, 
aunt, how are you? ” she stretched out a hand in 
vacancy, and said : 

“ Good morning, my dear. In an instant, I 
will be at your service. You perceive that I am 
completely carried away ; this story is really heart- 
rending; I cannot stop immediately!” 

Alphonse quietly took a seat, having grasped 
the hand extended to meet his own. Whilst his 
aunt continued her reading, Alphonse killed time 
by taking a survey of the parlor and its surround- 
ings. Nearly everything in it was of that super- 
ficial, transient style of beauty which derives its 
chief value from being fashionable, and, in conse- 
quence, deteriorates with the lapse of time. 
However, a few costly pieces of Faience and a 
Rhodonite cup ornamented with most delicately 
wrought figures recalled days of past splendor, 


PLANS. 


55 


and souvenirs of distinguished attention conferred 
upon the Austrian general's wife. No visitor was 
allowed to remain long ignorant of the history of 
these articles, for one could not spend ten minutes 
in Mme. de Grenaffs company without learning 
that the former had been given her by the Queen 
of Bavaria, to whom, for the space of six months, 
she had been maid of honor. And still more 
promptly were they acquainted with the fact that 
the cup was a gift from the Empress of Austria — 
really from the Empress herself, who, delighted 
with the pains taken by our heroine in getting up 
a ball in one of the little towns through which 
Her Majesty passed, whilst General de Grenaff 
was stationed there in command of the military, 
had thus shown her appreciation of it. Alas! 
these daily, even hourly pleasures so easily within 
reach of the Baroness then, had always been 
marred by what she styled the stern, ill temper of 
her husband, who, in reality, was a man of very 
noble character. He died. And she who more 
than once had declared herself a slave, and suffer- 
ing from the oppression of tyranny, was now at lib- 
erty. But, oh! the irony of fate ! the hour which 
struck off the prisoner’s chains, likewise closed 
the door between her and many coveted pleas- 
ures. This door was wide and gave her entrance 
into the highest circles at court, but the key of 
it was confided to a powerful genius named For- 


56 


RENEE’S MARRIAGE. 


tune. And lo, when the General lay down to 
his final rest in a tomb worthy of him, the genius 
took flight and the door remained closed. In 
this change of position no one was to blame, so 
Mme. de Grenaff was spared all feeling of resent- 
ment and animosity. Life annuities and a hand- 
some salary formed nearly the bulk of the Baron’s 
revenues. The comparatively slight inheritance, 
which, in accordance with his last wishes, was to 
be divided between his two sisters and his wife, 
bore to each a pledge of affection. When the 
provisions of a will strictly carried out, cause no 
bickerings nor ill feelings among the legatees, but 
on the contrary, ensure their continued gratitude 
towards the deceased and respect for his last 
wishes, it can readily be understood that it must 
have been an admirable document. It was thus 
with M. de Grenaff’s, and the very moderate 
amount of the sum to be divided likewise con- 
tributed towards this peaceful result. 

The Baroness was determined not to remain at 
Vienna, where her reduced circumstances would 
have been such a cruel blow to her self-love. 
Neither could she make up her mind to share 
with her sister, Alphonse’s mother, the monoto- 
nous life and prosaic cares of a rural home on the 
borders of Anjou. She decided to make her home 
in Paris, and thence to travel, as much as her means 
permitted, returning to Paris at option. Quite 


PLANS. 


57 


skilful in many ways, she was able to renovate 
and transform her toilettes so as always to make in 
the various assemblies she frequented, an appear- 
ance suitable to her station. Gay, animated, 
thoroughly acquainted with all the customs of the 
most fashionable and highest Austrian circles, 
never hesitating to draw upon her imagination for 
the embellishment of her narrative when realities 
did not suffice, she was one of those puerile, self- 
possessed, amusing talkers much appreciated in 
the world. She was very fond of reading, and 
devoured with avidity all the new novels, by 
which means she was enabled greatly to enhance 
the interest of some of her sketches of memory. 
Knowing how to derive advantages from these 
deceptions, she could excite sympathy and inter- 
est without compromising her dignity. Invita- 
tions poured in upon her, especially as she was 
not hypercritical in the choice of her friends, pro- 
vided their position was a fashionable one, and 
they could entertain. 

How was it that she had never once thought of 
introducing into this circle of gayety, amidst 
which she found her happiness, a nephew as 
avaricious of enjoying such festivities as herself? 
Two reasons may be found in answer to this 
question. First, Alphonse really preferred the 
country, and would not willingly have exchanged 
his life of ease there for one of useful industry in 


58 


RENEE’S MARRIAGE. 


Paris. We have seen in his conversation with 
Xavier which way his dreams drifted, and how in 
the anticipated moment of opulence his heart 
involuntarily reverted to the rural estate in Tou- 
raine. The thought of coming to Paris occa- 
sionally fora little diversion was all the attraction 
the great city held out for him — in fact, he 
considered frivolities and amusements its only 
resources. This ignorance was, no doubt, the re- 
sult of his father’s death, the influence of a 
mother, whose faith was as feeble as her mind 
was contracted, and also of the education re- 
ceived at a little lay college of the province. 
Happily, a pure heart and an upright, honest soul 
had preserved the poor young man from finding 
the poison that is usually mingled with the cup 
of indolence. 

The second and principal reason which explains 
Mme. de Grenaff’s negligence in not introducing 
Alphonse to the gay circles she frequented, is to 
be found in the fact that people who love them- 
selves very much, spend little time or thought on 
others. Around the egotist a thousand little rea- 
sons for acting thus entwine themselves forming, 
as it were, an invisible rampart. He is there in- 
trenched, sometimes reviewing these motives in 
his mind and pondering them, but oftener giving 
no heed to them whatever. 

Alphonse was not in the habit of sounding 


PLANS. 


59 


moral questions very deeply. However, he lacked 
not a certain degree of penetration on this point, 
— Mme. de Grenaff’s neglect of him. It could 
hardly be otherwise, for every time he came to 
Paris, his aunt and cousins of the Bois Roughs 
family gave him a most cordial welcome, evinced 
by all manner of affectionate attentions; whilst 
on this solemn day wherein we have just wit- 
nessed this aunt's reception of him, he could 
positively declare he was going to dine with her 
— this dear aunt, for the first time. Whilst she 
finishes the adventures of her hero of romance, 
Alphonse’s thoughts wander from the antici- 
pated touching interview of the coming eve to a 
more material, less romantic subject, the delight- 
ful repast so soon to tickle his appetite in the 
house of his aunt, a woman accustomed to all the 
delicacies of Paris. 

At last, the rigors of November and the in- 
creasing shadows of a narrow street completely 
eclipsed the light of day in this apartment. 
The Baroness was compelled to put aside the 
romance she found so charming. 

“ Ah ! ” she exclaimed, throwing down the 
book, “ my head is so fatigued reading. But 
come, dear, let us talk of yourself. What 
do you think of my little plans, my lucky 
hit ? ” 

“ O, aunt, you are like the fairies.” 


6o 


RENEE’S MARRIAGE. 


“ Seven hundred thousand francs’ dowry and a 
chateau ! ” 

“A chateau! You must come and spend the 
summers with us.” 

“ Oh, that is understood ! ” eagerly replied the 
Baroness. 

“ Indeed, we shall be very happy to receive 
you. Now, aunt, since you are acquainted with 
Mme. and Mile. Vangaramenghen, pray give me 
some instructions as to how I must comport 
myself in this very important matter, for it is 
necessary above all things that I commit no 
blunders, but make a favorable impression upon 
them.” 

“ Be calm, I have prepared the way. It is 
advisable that you seem very susceptible, and 
smitten at first sight.” 

“But yet, aunt,” — began Alphonse, slightly 
piqued. 

“ Do you not see that this is a very skilful 
stroke of policy? If one is agreeable when 
regarded from an ordinary point of view, how 
much more so when — ” 

“ Must I appear timid ? ” 

“ Timid ! how absurd. Do you wish them to 
think you stupid? You must, on the contrary, 
make every effort to be agreeable and appear to 
advantage.” 

“ Do they waltz ? ” 


PLANS. 


6 1 


“ I think not. Are you, then, a fine waltzer ? ” 

“ Oh ! yes, aunt, I am a Vestris.” 

“ It is a great pity,” said the Baroness, laugh- 
ing, “you could have won their admiration by 
your agility.” 

“ You need not make fun of my agility, aunt, 
for without it I should have been a lost man this 
very day. I have waged war, gained the victory, 
scaled the wall, and secured myself behind the 
intrenchments.” 

“ What do you mean,” replied Mme. de 
Grenaff. “You must remember that I am not an 
GEdipus, my dear.” 

“ Let me explain the riddle. This afternoon 
a frightful old woman, a Meg transformed into a 
Parisian sorceress, one of the Three Fates, hav- 
ing a leisure hour, dared cast her eyes upon the 
seat I longed to obtain that I might reach a 
certain quarter of the city to hear a delightful 
concert. She had almost reached the omnibus 
when an unexpected obstacle arrested her prog- 
ress. It was then ‘ I came, I saw, I conquered.’ 

. . . In a voice of wrath my enemy doomed me 
to the infernal gods, but I, calm in my triumph, 
turned my head, and abandoned her to her 
dreams of vengeance ! ” 

Mme. de Grenaff laughed and shrugged her 
shoulders. “ Foolish fellow,” said she, “you are 
always the same. Mme. Vangaramenghen will 


62 


RENEE’S MARRIAGE. 


find you very amusing. But give me your arm, 
dinner is ready.” 

The dining-room resembled a greenhouse, so 
great was the profusion of plants it contained ; 
trailing vines, green branches, flowers of every 
description fell from the ceiling, were grouped 
in vases, ornamented the pier tables or were 
twined around the buffet. None of them were 
at all valuable, and as for beauty, its place was 
supplied by quantity. One could clearly dis- 
cern in all this, the love of luxury, which forcibly 
restrained, still sought to satisfy itself at as little 
cost as possible. 

“ One might imagine himself in Eden,” said 
Alphonse graciously, resting his glances upon 
these humble spoils of the garden. 

“ Only in this Eden you are permitted to taste 
all,” answered the Baroness, passing her nephevf 
a plate of soup. 

Alphonse was hungry, and in consequence, 
ready to do speedy justice to this course. How- 
ever, the Baroness uncovered a dish which dis- 
closed something of a dark color, and familiar, 
very familiar to the eyes of the guest. 

“ Do you like bouillet, Alphonse ? ” 

“ But — yes, aunt, yes, very much.” 

“ I am devoted to it, and since I have made my 
home in Paris, I eat it every day. It is so tender, 
so delicate. Isn’t it delicious ? ” 


PLANS. 


63 


“ Oh ! delicious, aunt.” 

“ But you have taken such a small piece. Cut 
a larger piece, my dear. Here, you are at home.” 

“ So I perceive,” thought Alphonse. 

“ Will you not season it with a little caviare ? 
I have some delightful caviare , it is the Ortoff 
brand. Hand me the bottle, Madeleine, — that 
one at the end of the pantry.” 

“No thanks, aunt, do not take that trouble.” 

“You would really believe yourself in Russia., 
Did you ever taste caviare ? ” 

“ Once, and I must confess I prefer remaining 
in France.” 

“ Ah ! ” exclaimed the Baroness, “ charming, 
charming! charming! You do not lack spirit. 
Never mind the caviare, Madeleine, hand me only 
the spices.” 

“ What ! aunt, that hand that was once kissed 
by an archduke — ” 

“ That hand is going to dress this fine salad, 
whilst awaiting the hour for signing your marriage 
contract, which is no doubt, very near.” 

“ And it is to you I shall owe my happiness. 
Really, I do not know how I shall ever be able 
to testify my gratitude.” 

“ Ah ! my poor child, I am delighted at your 
good fortune, I assure you. You can well be 
proud of'your wife, for Ren£e is beautiful. To 
be candid, her stepmother is in the wrong. I 


6 4 


RENEE’S MARRIAGE. 


am very fond of Mme. Vangaramenghen, and 
find her delightful, but I must confess that she 
has sometimes been a little too exacting. How 
could it be otherwise? She had been spoiled in 
her own family ; she had held absolute sway over 
her husband’s household, and then suddenly, to 
be confronted by a beautiful, rich, accomplished 
stepdaughter who is determined to have her own 
way — it cannot indeed have been very agreeable. 
The real cause of the trouble, however — ” 

“ They shall not influence me in the least, — I 
shall not bother myself about these questions.” 

“ Oh ! you have said a good thing indeed ! 
Endeavor to make Mile. Vangaramenghen under- 
stand this. I shall tell her myself.” 

“ We will spend the most of our time in the 
country.” 

“ Do you not like Paris? ” 

“ Yes, for a change. We will come to Paris 
when the hunting season is over.” 

“ I am convinced that Ren£e visits the poor in 
the neighborhood of her chateau — ” 

“ I have no objection whatever to that, pro- 
vided she does not insist upon my accompanying 
her.” 

“ And that she gives freely to them — ” 

“ And that she shall continue to do. I cer- 
tainly should not refuse her a few hundred francs 
when she brings me a fortune.” 


PLANS. 


65 


“ My dear,” said Mme. de Grenaff, “ your words 
are golden. Ren6e shall know all this. I can 
easily find means of access to her. I should not 
be astonished if, ere leaving her this evening, 
matters were all settled between you. Now, let 
me give you a last piece of advice. This evening, 
I am going to take you to a house which I visit 
but seldom, — a salon of the old school. There 
you must be very dignified and discreet, and 
curb your imagination and spirits somewhat.” 

“Yes, aunt, I understand; be at ease on this 
point,” answered Alphonse, delicately dropping a 
piece of sugar in the Gien cup before him, which 
he then filled with the coffee, that in his honor, 
Mme. de Grenaff had added, as the last course of 
this unceremonious dinner. 


CHAPTER V. 


Renee. 

Meanwhile, Xavier de Bois Roughs had left 
the Marquise de Valbret with the full assurance 
that she would lend her most cordial support to the 
aid of his plans. Remaining a few moments pen- 
sive and motionless, as if following up an idea, 
she now rang for the servant. 

“ Pierre,” said she, “ descend to the lodge to 
inform all callers that I see no one before din- 
ner.” 

“Yes, Madame,” replied the old man, with an 
inclination. 

Just as he left the room and went towards the 
steps, the entry door opened, and he found him- 
self facing the young girl whom M. de Bois Rou- 
ges had met. 

“ Is Mme. de Valbret in ? ” said she, “ I wish to 
see her.” 

“ Madame does not receive to-day,” replied 
Pierre, rigidly observing the orders just given 
him. 

“You may admit me,” replied the young girl, 
gently pushing open the door which the old man 


RENEE. 67 

held half closed. “ Really, Pierre, you don't rec- 
ognize me. I am — ” 

“ Renee ! ” exclaimed a voice from the end of 
the vestibule, ere that individual had time to fin- 
ish her sentence. 

“ Ah! "cried the latter, entering freely, and 
running to throw herself into the arms of the 
Marquise. “ At last, I see you again ! ” 

“ May the good God pardon me ! It is Mile. 
Ren£e ! ” said Pierre, approaching timidly as if to 
excuse himself. 

“ It really is. But pray, Madame, let us be alone 
for the little while that I can remain with you.” 

“ I am entirely at your service, my dear daugh- 
ter. Hasten, Pierre, for I wish no one at all to 
come up.” 

The old servant obeyed, closing behind him 
the half-open door. 

“ Who came with you, Ren£e ? ” inquired Mme. 
de Valbret. 

“ No one.” 

“ No one ! ” 

“ No one, thank God. I am going to give you 
a full explanation.” 

The Marquise took the young girl by the hand, 
led her to her chamber, and made her take a seat 
by the fire. Then Ren£e lay off her hat. 

“ Oh,” she murmured, “ I am smothering! ” 


68 


RENEE’S MARRIAGE. 


Mme. de Valbret gazed a moment upon the 
beautiful head relieved of the velvet band which 
formed a sombre crown, and taking it in her two 
hands she imprinted upon it a long and affection- 
ate kiss. At this motherly caress, the young 
girl gave vent to her feelings in sobs, apparently 
unable to restrain them. 

“How happy I am,” she exclaimed, “to be 
with you once again, although, alas ! I come to- 
day without her.” 

“Our dear Fannie has gone whither we all are 
journeying,” said the Marquise gently. “ Bear 
up under this, my child, it is often better for us 
to be preceded to heaven by those who love us. 
We have not the power of keeping them here, 
whilst they, having reached the goal, have the 
power of attracting us to them.” 

“ You are right,” replied Ren£e, “ but when the 
road is very thorny, we feel most sensibly the loss 
of their presence in sustaining and guiding us.” 

“ Providence measures the trials of each to his 
strength, and he who hopes can conquer. You 
are in trouble, Ren£e. What is the matter? 
Why have you not written to me since you left 
the Sacred Heart ? ” 

Ren£e shook her head. 

“Would my letters have been sent? I doubt 
it. It is sad at my age to feel the need of ex- 
treme prudence, indeed, to have to be suspicious. 


RENEE. 


69 


And this is why I consider it a great subject of 
gratitude to heaven that I have been able for a 
few hours at least, to escape the bondage in 
which I live.” 

“ But my child, how is it that you come alone? 
It really astonishes me very much.” 

“ I will tell you all by degrees,” said Ren£e. 
“ It will make the story shorter, and likewise, the 
better enable you to understand matters. Oh ! ” 
she exclaimed, clasping her hands, “just think, 
this is the first time, since leaving the convent, 
that I have had an opportunity of opening my 
heart to any one. 

“ It has been four years, dear Madame, since I 
saw you. In that visit, the last I made with my 
godmother, I was struck by one of her remarks. 
‘ I do not complain of my bad health/ said she, 
‘ but I should like to be spared five or six years 
longer.’ Saying this, she regarded me tenderly. 
I did not then comprehend the full extent of her 
words, but I certainly do now. She coughed a 
good deal on leaving you, and when I suggested 
that she had done wrong to go out, she replied, 
‘ I may not see Madeleine here again for a long 
time, since she is going to the country. When I 
am with her the hours fly, we are both about 
thirty years younger.’ ” 

“ Poor Fannie ! ” sighed the Marquise. “ I can 
endorse her words. It was ever a source of 


70 


RENEE’S MARRIAGE. 


pleasure to me to renew that friendship begun in 
our youth, ere marriage settled our homes apart, 
one in La Bresse, the other in the interior of 
Touraine. The longer one lives and the more 
one sees of life, the stronger and dearer our early 
attachments, formed when the heart, free from 
guile and viewing all things through the light of 
happiness, is so capable of bestowing its affec- 
tions.” 

“ She talked to you a great deal about me, did 
she not? ” 

“Constantly, and especially after she became a 
widow. You were then her only care.” 

“She was so kind, so very kind! Her last 
words were about me. The day after we saw 
you, she was so sick that I sent for the doctor. 
He gave as his opinion that there was no cause 
for alarm, and I returned to the convent the same 
evening. Two days later, I was sent for in all 
haste ; a pulmonary congestion had set in and my 
aunt was dying in most excruciating sufferings. 

‘ I ought to have prepared her, I did not expect 
so soon ’ — she murmured, but here her voice 
failed, she was suffocating and never finished the 
sentence. One hour later, and she was no more. 
For the second time, I had lost my mother.” 

The young girl’s tears choked her utterance, 
and the Marquise was scarcely less affected. 

In a few moments, Ren£e continued. 


RENEE. 


7 


“ My father, at the time, was in Switzerland 
with his wife and children, and did not return to 
Paris for a month. He came immediately to see 
me, and I perceived with gratification, that he 
was much grieved at my aunt’s death. He in- 
quired if I wished to enter one of the fashion- 
able boarding-schools, or to remain at the Sacred 
Heart. It was my aunt who had selected the 
latter for me, making this one of the conditions 
of my inheriting her fortune, a fact of which I 
had heretofore been in ignorance. Oh ! how I 
bless this wise foresight, which had thus found 
means of bequeathing me at the same time both 
temporal and eternal riches ! It was easy to 
convince my father that in no academy con- 
ducted by lay teachers would he find ladies of 
position, rich and learned, voluntarily embracing 
the life of instructresses, and thus imparting to 
their scholars that refinement, that elegance of 
bearing and deportment which being the result, 
not of labor but of early education, no studied 
effort can give. I mentioned to him among my 
companions, the names of several representatives 
of noble houses, or of families prominent for 
their immense wealth. In a short time, I had 
gained my cause, and it was agreed that as my 
stepmother always spent the vacation travelling, 
I should spend mine with such of my companions 
as the religious took to the sea-shore. Ere 


72 


RENEE’S MARRIAGE. 


finishing this conversation, my father informed 
me that my godmother had faithfully kept her 
promise, and that her death made me possessor 
of her chateau and five hundred thousand francs. 
In addition to this, I inherit my mother’s prop- 
erty, and the future will thus double the above 
mentioned sum. Pardon me this detail, but it is 
necessary for you to know it.” 

“ I remained at the convent over three years,’ 
going to my father’s house only for a few hours, 
on New Year’s day or on some of his favorite 
anniversaries. On these occasions, I always 
profited by the large sums of money he gave me, 
to buy handsome presents for my stepmother 
and the children. Of course, I and my gifts 
never lacked a hearty welcome, and for a long 
time, I enjoyed all manner of illusions con- 
cerning the household I now know so thor- 
oughly. 

“The day after attaining my nineteenth year, 
a letter from my father announced that in twenty- 
four hours, he would come to take me home, and 
my school days would be at an end. In several 
preceding letters he had alluded to this reso- 
lution, which my age really justified. However, 
he expressed regret at withdrawing me from the 
convent so abruptly, and apologized very grace- 
fully to the Superioress, Mme. de Lussieu. 

“ After reading the perfectly polite letter my 


RENEE. 


73 


father addressed her, the Superioress heaved a 
deep sigh and said, 

“ ‘The hour is come, my child.’ 

“ I answered with much emotion, 

Mother, I am deeply grieved at leaving you 
all, but I will not bid you adieu, for I expect to 
visit you often. Moreover, I return to the pater- 
nal roof with feelings of confidence. It is true, 
I shall not find there the tenderness and counsels 
of a mother, but Mme. Vangaramenghen has 
always treated me kindly, and I know that my 
father is devoted to me. Ah ! if my dear aunt 
were only living! But she will never more be 
there to welcome me.’ 

“ The Superioress sighed again. 

“ Ren£e, ’ said she, ‘ dear and tender memories 
do not injure our hearts even when lacerating 
them. What I fear for you is not the past with 
its sorrows, but the present with its difficulties, 
and the future with its dangers.’ 

“ I inquired in astonishment what she meant 
and she answered, 

“ ‘ I have often begged your aunt, were it only 
with myself, to cast off a little of the extreme 
reserve enveloping her words whenever she spoke 
of your father’s household, but she invariably 
replied : “ I must observe and study the matter 

more closely, to avoid false judgment.” But 
the opportunity for this detailed study was lost 


74 


RENEE’S MARRIAGE. 


by reason of her being an invalid ; she could 
thus only view the surface. There resulted from 
this exaggerated prudence a vague anxiety which 
she communicated to myself, and which fills me 
with indefinable forebodings for your future in the 
midst of that family. She gave me the impres- 
sion that your father was completely under his 
wife’s influence, more especially as the cares and 
pre-occupations of his banking-house make it a 
necessity that his domestic life be peaceful and 
happy. Your aunt used often to say : “ How I 

wish for Rente’s sake that Mme. Vangaramen- 
ghen not only bore the name of Renee’s mother, 
but likewise possessed her vitues.” The last time 
I saw her, she said in speaking of you, “ Make her 
very strong, very courageous, for I may be gone 
ere her hour of conflict begins.” I asked her for 
an explanation. “ It is too late to-day,” she replied, 
“ but I will tell you all at my next visit.” This 
visit so anxiously looked forward to by me was 
never made, death forestalling it and thus de- 
priving me of the earnestly desired information. 
Consequently, Ren6e, I have no certain found- 
ation on which to base a judgment, and cannot 
tell you anything positive, or give you any 
definite or detailed advice on the subject. I feel 
a vague anxiety. You are going to be suddenly 
placed amid surroundings in which it may be an 
embarrassing and delicate question for you to 


RENEE. 


75 


know how to act, and where you will be without 
a guide to direct your uncertain footsteps in such 
devious paths. You will have no one of whom 
to take counsel. See ! then, how much necessity 
there is for joining prudence to courage, gentle- 
ness to firmness, that you may remain victoriously 
Christian, in a family where your faith will prob- 
ably awaken only a feeble echo. Guard especially 
against the seductions of vanity and worldly 
pleasures, even those which are frivolously only 
and not dangerous. If you know how to employ 
your time, and in all you do consider the end, I 
answer for you, no matter what the circumstan- 
ces in which you are placed. Do not neglect 
prayer ; you will find therein light and strength. 
I will now leave you to make preparations for 
your departure, as you have not too much time.” 

“ She embraced me and left the room. I 
ascended to my chamber (for not being subject to 
all the restrictions of class and school, I enjoyed 
the privilege of a private room), and there throw- 
ing myself on my knees before the crucifix, I 
buried my face in my hands. To express what I 
felt would be impossible. Mme. de Lussieu’s 
words had opened before me a sudden perspect- 
ive, and I struggled in anguish so much the more 
poignant in proportion to the obscurity envelop- 
ing the cause of it. Could it indeed be that the 
paternal roof towards which I so confidently 


76 


RENEE’S MARRIAGE. 


turned my steps, contained many a snare for my 
unwary feet ? At first, I wept bitterly, mingling 
with my anxious fears, grief and regrets for her 
who was no more. Then I prayed. Remembering 
that St. Teresa when left an orphan cast herself 
at the Blessed Virgin’s feet, entreating her to re- 
place the mother just lost, I followed her exam- 
ple. When I arose, finding myself a little 
calmer, I began to reflect upon what course to 
pursue. Amidst the multiplicity of confused 
thoughts presenting themselves, but two things 
were clearly defined, — my determination to re- 
main faithful to God, cost what it might, and the 
mutual affection of my father and self. I re- 
solved to build my little citadel upon these two 
solid foundations, feeling confident that whilst 
ever acting under the inspiration of Faith and 
filial love, it would be easy to know when to 
yield and when combat, according to the occa- 
sion. I did not deceive myself. I was fully 
aware that it was signing the act of my own 
immolation, it was changing the course of my 
life, to renounce those happy school-days which I 
saw flowing so gently and joyously for all my 
companions. ^ However, I strove not to give way 
to useless regrets. I endeavored to realize, on 
the contrary, that my being called so early to the 
path of sacrifice, was an especial mark of God’s 
favor ; and I was surprised myself to see that 


RENEE. 


77 


having introduced order, determination and 
abnegation into my soul, they were followed by 
peace. 

“ Next day, my father came for me. My sor- 
row at leaving this dear place, the good Mothers 
and all my companions, joined to the fears that 
had constantly pursued me since my conversa- 
tion with Mme. de Lussieu, were plainly visible 
in my face. The first words my father uttered 
were, ‘ Gracious ! how pale you are ! ’ 

• “ He then added somewhat bitterly : 

“ ‘Are you so grieved at the thought of return- 
ing to your father’s house?’ 

“‘No, father, ' I replied, ‘ but when on the 
point of leaving a place so dear to me as this, 
and friends from whom I have received every 
mark of affection, I cannot entirely control my 
feelings ; and were I to appear unmoved, you, 
dear father, would be the first to reproach me for 
my indifference. But I do not regret going with 
you, and I should also say that for some time 
past, I have been awaiting your permission to 
return to the paternal roof.’ 

“‘True,* murmured my father, ‘you are now 
nineteen years old. Probably, I ought to have 
recalled you sooner.’ 

“ I made no reply, tears choked my utterance, 
but by a violent effort I restrained them. Em- 
bracing all the religious present, several of whom 


RENEE’S MARRIAGE. 


7 « 

wept, having no need like myself to repress their 
feelings, I then asked if I might go to the infirm- 
ary to bid good-bye to one of the scholars there, 
a little girl about eleven years old, who was 
greatly attached to me. My father drew out his 
watch and looking at it said, 

“ ‘ I am going to be behind time.’ 

“ I felt that I must now enter upon the new 
path I had traced out. Taking off my neck a 
medallion which my aunt had given me and 
which enclosed a flower of the Holy Balsam. 

“ ‘ Please, Madame,’ said I, to Mme. de Lus- 
sieu, 1 give this to Cecile for me. I have not 
time now to take it to her myself, and I am 
anxious to leave her this last proof of affection.’ 

“ In receiving the medallion, the Superioress 
pressed my hand ; I saw that she had understood 
me. I took my seat in the carriage, my father 
informed the Superioress that he would send for 
my baggage on the morrow, the vehicle started, 
I made a last sign of adieu, and one portion of 
my life, no doubt the happiest, was now mingled 
with the past. 

“ When we arrived, my stepmother was in the 
drawing-room, it being one of her reception days. 
I was not sorry, and asked to be conducted to 
my own apartment. My father having gone to 
his office, I remained alone. I spent a long time 
looking at the various objects around me, nearly 


RENEE. 79 

all of which recalled some dear remembrances. 
At last dinner was announced. I hastened to 
descend. The welcome my stepmother gave me 
seemed rather cool though polite. That evening 
she was to go to a ball. The conversation 
touched upon indifferent topics only, and being 
fatigued, I asked permission to retire quite early. 

“ Next morning before breakfast, my father 
called me to his room and handing me a pocket- 
book, said, ‘ Renee, since you are now nineteen 
years of age, you are entitled to your revenues. 
They amount to thirty-five thousand francs. 
From this sum, I have had to deduct thirteen 
thousand francs for your expenses at the Sacred 
Heart convent, together with the maintenance of 
your property and some improvements on one of 
your estates. There remains the sum of twenty- 
two thousand francs ; here it is, my child.’ 

“ I was speechless from astonishment. In my 
ignorance of the law, I was of the opinion that 
I could not touch my income until coming of age. 
And I, who for the last two days had been pon- 
dering so many questions, now suddenly found 
myself confronting one of the most delicate. 

“‘What is the matter ?’ inquired my father, 
‘ you have nothing to say.’ 

“ ‘ I am overcome with surprise,’ said I, embrac- 
ing him. ‘ How little I dreamed of having all 
this money fall in my hands ! Would it not be 


So 


RENEE’S MARRIAGE. 


agreeable to you, dear father, to keep these 
twenty thousand francs? Pardon — 

“ 1 Oh no,’ he answered with a smile which 
meant thanks, ‘ I have no need of borrowing from 
my little Renee. My affairs are in a very flour- 
ishing condition. Dispose, then, of your income 
as you choose, my daughter.’ 

“ ‘ But,’ said I, ‘ if you wish me to enjoy my 
revenues, it is necessary that you allow me to 
bear a portion of the expenses of a household of 
which I now form a part.’ My father shrugged 
his shoulders as he answered, 

“‘I am rich, there is no need whatever for my 
child paying me board.’ 

“‘Yes,’ I insisted, ‘out of courtesy to Mme. 
Vangaramenghen.’ 

“ He reflected a moment, then as if undecided, 
said, ‘ Well, talk the matter over with my wife ; 
and if I consent to this, Ren6e, it is only to put 
you at your ease, and to prevent your exceeding 
the regular terms for board by an excessive gen- 
erosity.’ 

“ He embraced me tenderly, and I returned to 
my chamber, bearing my little treasure, and with 
a very joyful heart. My father had shown so 
much delicacy, so much affection for me, he was so 
truly disposed to make my position in his house 
an agreeable one. And moreover, I held in my 
hands twenty-two thousand francs ! Think, dear 


RENEE. 


8l 


Madame, you who live only to make others happy, 
think what pleasant dreams coursed through my 
brain ! At breakfast the happiness I felt was so 
visible in my face, that my little brother said, 

“ ‘ Oh ! how pleased you seem this morning ! 
Will you not go out walking with us ? ’ 

“‘Yes,’ I answered, ‘and. I am going to buy 
you a pretty toy.’ 

“ He clapped his hands and ran off to bring 
his little sister, who darted up to me to obtain 
in turn her promise of a present. Taking hold of 
my hands, they both frolicked around me. Their 
joy, the satisfaction imprinted upon my father’s 
face, the cold but perfect politeness of my step- 
mother, all appeared to argue well for my future. 
My fears were stilled, and I experienced a hope 
of happiness in living amongst them. 

As soon as breakfast was over, I requested 
Mme. Vangaramenghen to give me a few mo- 
ments’ conversation. 

“ ‘ I am much pressed for time,’ was her an- 
swer, ‘ I have but an hour in which to dress and 
get to the park.’ 

“ As briefly as possible I informed her of what 
had passed between my father and myself, — that 
he had just remitted to me a sum of money, and 
that at my request, he would allow me to contrib- 
ute towards the expenses of the house, and I 
now begged her to name the amount. 


82 


RENEE’S MARRIAGE. 


“‘How much did your father give you?’ she 
asked. 

“ Madame, have you not often experienced 
sudden and strange impressions, that in reality 
have the force of revelations, a very simple and 
trifling thing imparting to us in some inexplicable 
and mysterious manner, and in a moment, flashes 
of knowledge most wonderful? We look at 
a countenance, and feel instantly that the individ- 
ual is in sympathy with ourselves, or, we hear a 
word which makes us tremble, we know not why. 
This simple and very natural question of my 
stepmother, sent a shock through my frame. 
‘What matters that/ I answered, ‘just tell me 
candidly how much you wish me to give.’ 

“ Sinking back in the easy-chair on which she 
was seated, she fixed a searching gaze upon my 
face and said, 

“ ‘ What is your exact age ? * 

“ ‘ Nineteen.’ 

“ ‘ Since when ? ’ 

“ * Three days ago.’ 

“ A smile played around her lips as she mur- 
mured, 

“ ‘ I understand.’ 

“ With her elbows resting upon the arms of 
the easy-chair, her head thrown back and her 
hands clasped, she seemed plunged in thought, 
utterly forgetful of dress or promenade. She 


RENEE. 


83 


had the air of a person absorbed in very per- 
plexing calculations. I remained perfectly quiet, 
not daring to interrupt her, but wondering how so 
simple a question could have set in motion all 
this train of thought. At length, in about a quar- 
ter of an hour, she said to me, 

“ ‘ I do not see how your father can accept 
board of you/ 

“ ‘ He himself does not accept it, but he per- 
mits me however to offer it to you ; * I replied, in 
a firm voice, ‘ he desires you to fix the amount, 
and I avail myself of his permission to confer 
with you on the subject/ 

“ Smiling and shaking her head, she said, 

“ ‘ Well, let it be a thousand francs a year/ 
“‘A thousand francs! You must be dream- 
ing, Madame. Such a sum is entirely too little. 
Permit me to make it five times as much/ 

“ ‘ No, no,’ was her hasty rejoinder. ‘I have 
said a thousand francs and let it be thus. Do 
not insist upon your father’s giving his house the 
character of a hotel/ 

“ ‘Ah ! Madame ! * I exclaimed. 

“ My face burnt and in spite of me, tears 
mounted to my eyes. 

“ ‘ Do not get angry,* said Mme. Vangaramen- 
ghen, ‘ How very sensitive you are ! ’ 

“ ‘ I beg pardon,’ was my answer, in a voice as 
calm as possible. ‘ I had no idea that my words 


8 4 


RENEE’S MARRIAGE. 


would have received such an interpretation. Let 
the matter stand as you have arranged it ; I give 
you a thousand francs per annum.’ 

“ She arose and was about to ring the bell for 
her maid to assist her in dressing, when I stopped 
her by a gesture. 

“ ‘ One word more,’ said I, ‘ I wish to consult 
you on another subject, ere taking any steps in the 
matter. I should be very grateful if you would 
allow me add one more servant to the household, 
a maid for my especial service.’ 

“At this my stepmother’s eyes, for a moment, 
resumed their former vague expression which 
promptly changed to one of decision. 

“ ‘ No,’ said she, ‘ my house is already organized, 
and I am opposed to increasing the number of do- 
mestics. I will let one of my women wait on you 
as well as on myself. I will consider this matter, 
and after deciding which one to allow you, I will 
send her to take your orders. Since you insist 
upon a regular arrangement of these details pecu- 
niarily, you will please settle two-thirds of her 
wages.’ 

“ I thanked her and left her presence, my 
heart chilled by a nameless fear. And yet I could 
not say that she was utterly cold or indifferent 
to those around her. She well knew how, when 
she wished, to smile with a charm inexpressible, 
and to converse so agreeably as to captivate all 


RENEE. 85 

who saw or heard her. Such had she shown her- 
self to me during my visits to the paternal roof. 
On these occasions, I could not help comparing 
her to a fairy, playing the part of a grand lady. 
True, she had not won my love, but I certainly 
had admired her very much. And, now, since my 
life had become allied to her own, since it had 
become necessary to discuss with her these ordi- 
nary and homely subjects, to descend to domestic 
details, I felt that she awakened in me a feeling of 
defiance that utterly barred the door to sympathy. 
Now, I understood perfectly those vague, anxious 
fears of my aunt and Mme. de Lussieu. 

“ I ascended to my room, pursued by this one 
thought, Why has she put my board at so low a 
figure ? The unjust and galling words she had 
dared use towards me, were to my mind most con- 
vincing proof that she had very little tenderness 
or generosity. Moreover, I was deeply hurt at 
her refusing to allow me the privilege of selecting 
my own maid. I felt that she had determined to 
hold me in perpetual check. The two thoughts 
which had already consoled me, now came to my 
aid, God will sustain me and my father loves 
me.” 

Here Ren6e interrupted her narrative, exclaim- 
ing with a sigh: “How late it is already! I 
must return to the Jesuit church in a very short 
time. I intended to be brief, and yet, in spite of 


86 


RENEE’S MARRIAGE. 


me, my feelings so long pent up, would not be re- 
strained.” 

“Speak, speak, Ren£e, keep back nothing,” 
said the Marquise, pressing her hand. “ You have 
time to talk with your old friends. You seek my 
advice; hence, fear not to give me all the details 
that I may be enlightened.” 

“ No,” answered Renee sadly. ** I have still too 
much to learn of you for me to take time to con- 
tinue this detailed account. The hour warns me 
that I must abridge somewhat.” 

She continued: 

“ I have already told you that I repaired to my 
room, smarting under a sense of wrong and filled 
with painful forebodings. In about an hour 
the waiting-maid assigned me appeared. She was 
a Flemish woman. My stepmother, born at Ou- 
denarde, as you probably know, could talk to her in 
my presence without my understanding a word of 
what they said. Moreover, the dress and behav- 
ior of this maid the evening previous had shocked 
me, and that very morning, I had met her com- 
ing from the clothes-room with a suspicious look- 
ing pamphlet in her hand. Mine, de Lussieu’s 
words, ‘You will probably find yourself in em- 
barrassing circumstances, requiring much tact and 
delicacy as to the manner in which you should act,’ 
immediately came to my mind. And my heart re- 
volted at the idea of the realization of these words, 


RENEE. 


87 


in thus having constantly about me and in my es- 
pecial service, one of the persons best calculated 
to verify them, though in a secondary manner, as 
it were. 

“That evening, Mme. Vangaramenghen made 
known our arrangements to my father and they re- 
ceived his approval. She now complained that 
she was taking cold, and would not go out as she 
had intended to the Italian opera. My father 
proposed taking me, but I was spared the trouble 
of declining, for ere I could say a word, Madame 
replied that I was not in the habit of sitting up 
late, that I seemed a little fatigued, and that if she 
were not there to take care of me I would run the 
risk of catching cold from draughts. Conse- 
quently, my father went alone. 

“ I had been in my chamber about half an hour 
when there was a rap at the door, and I was very 
much surprised at seeing my stepmother enter. 
I offered her an easy-chair. She thanked me, and 
giving me one of those caressing looks she could so 
well assume when it suited her purpose, she said: 

“‘Probably you were going to retire early, I 
fear that I have disturbed you.’ 

“ I made a great effort to receive her courte- 
ously, assuring her that I was at her service. 

“ ‘ I have but a few words to say,’ she continued, 
‘ I come to beg a slight favor of you.’ 

“ ‘ You may rely upon me.’ 


88 


RENEE’S MARRIAGE. 


“ ‘ I did not doubt it.’ 

“ She now took my hand in hers. This show 
of tenderness was as little pleasing to me as the 
frigidity of her demeanor in our morning’s conver- 
sation. ‘ I shall not receive for a week,’ said she, 
‘ the money which your father gives me for my 
dress and the children’s, and I have come to beg of 
you the loan of a sum sufficient to cancel this 
note, which I have promised shall be done to- 
morrow morning.’ 

“ ‘You shall willingly have it, if in my power,’ 
I answered. I felt my countenance change. 
It seemed as if the ground trembled under my 
feet. 

“ ‘ Here is the amount,’ said my stepmother, 
taking from an account book a leaf on which 
appeared the name of one of our most fashion- 
able dress-makers. Taking the note, I glanced at 
the sum total. 

“ ‘ Seventeen thousand francs ! I exclaimed. 

“‘Yes. Does the amount surprise you,’ said 
my stepmother with a low, silvery laugh. ‘ Ah ! 
my poor child, it is very easily seen that you are 
just from boarding school.’ 

“ I was positively speechless from astonishment. 

“‘You see how it is,’ she continued. ‘I do 
not wish to risk displeasing your father by asking 
him to advance me, even by a week, the necessary 
sum. Never since our marriage has there been 


RENEE. 


89 

the slightest cloud between us ; and although it 
costs me much to request this favor of you, I am 
ready to do anything rather than incur, for the 
first time, the displeasure of my dear Adrien, 
whose happiness is the paramount consideration 
of life with me ! * 

“ These words immediately banished my hesi- 
tation. Opening my secretary, I placed in her 
hands the seventeen thousand francs. 

“‘ You solemnly promise to keep this a secret ? ’ 
said she. 

‘‘‘Yes, Madame, was my answer in a stifled 
voice, ‘ my father’s happiness is likewise dear to 
me.’ 

“‘Thank you, Renee,’ said she, with a kiss 
that made me shudder. 

“ She left the room, and I went to bed, but 
sleep had forsaken my eyelids. I mentally 
weighed all that had taken place during these 
two days I had lived under the paternal roof, and 
also, all that I knew of Mme. Vangaramenghen’s 
past. Several times, I had heard my aunt recount 
the manner of my father’s making his second 
wife’s acquaintance. He had been a widower 
three years, and it was whilst still feeling keenly 
his grief and isolation that he met at Spa this 
young and pretty woman, the daughter of a 
great manufacturer of Oudenarde. Endowed 
with all worldly graces she soon succeeded in 


90 


RENEE’S MARRIAGE. 


captivating my father’s heart, and overcoming the 
repugnance he had hitherto manifested for a 
second marriage. She was rich, and my father 
in marrying her, expected her dowry to assist 
him in undertaking financial speculations of great 
magnitude. But six months after the marriage, 
this dowry still unpaid was swallowed up in the 
ruin of the Oudenarde manufacturer. It might 
very reasonably be suspected that at the time of 
my father’s marriage or even engagement, her 
pecuniary affairs, though unknown to him, were 
then on the eve of a crash. However, he would 
not doubt the honor of her who had received his 
name. Forced to continue with no resources 
but his own, the speculations already undertaken, 
his position was a terrible one. It was at this 
time his hair turned white. Fortunately, he was 
extricated from his embarrassment by an unex- 
pected rise in the price of some stocks he held. 
He issued victorious from the struggle, and since 
then his affairs have always prospered. But to 
be brief, he had suffered for this woman, he had 
borne uncomplainingly the weight of her financial 
ruin (no slight one to him) ; she knew it, and 
now I saw her squander in secret, deceiving him, 
the gold his generosity lavished upon her. I now 
clearly understood why she had fixed my board 
at so low a figure, it was only to have a better 
hold upon me in obtaining money for expendi- 


RENEE. 


91 


tures concealed from him. I was indignant at 
such deceit ! Had I not done wrong, in granting 
her request so readily? Yet, on the other hand, 
ought I not to do all in my power to ward off 
anything like annoyance or unhappiness in my 
father’s house ? Oh ! to be alone and inexperi- 
enced, cope with such perplexities ! . . . I felt 
feverish, my head was burning, and when morn- 
ing came, I found myself unable to rise. 

“ I sent word to my father that I had a severe 
headache. Every attention was bestowed upon 
me, but I refused all remedies, knowing that no 
one could offer that which alone could relieve it. 

“ In the evening I felt better. My father said 
to me, ‘You never told me, Ren£e, that you 
were subject to these spells. If you are trou- 
bled again in this way, I must see to it and con- 
sult the doctor.’ 

“ Poor father ! I did not undeceive him. 

“ The next morning passed without any occur- 
rence worthy of notice ; but in the evening, just 
as I entered the dining-room, I heard my father 
say, 

“ ‘ They are charming people, truly refined and 
elegant’ — And the voice of my stepmother, I 
also heard very distinctly as she replied, 

“ ‘ And yet you wish me to take her there, poor 
child, with her school girl tastes and convent 
manners !’ 


92 


RENEE’S MARRIAGE. 


“ My entrance put an end to this dialogue. 

“ On returning to my room, I surveyed myself 
in the glass. What does she mean ? thought I. 
I have known many persons quite her equal in 
elegance and worldly accomplishments, and they 
never considered me a fit subject for such 
remarks. 

“ I now scrutinized my apparel and was forced 
to acknowledge that it was very simple. 

“ I shall make some improvements on this 
point, said I to myself. I do not wish my father 
to be mortified by having my appearance so plain 
as to be at variance with his standard of elegance. 

“ The next day was Sunday. Accompanied, to 
my great disgust, by the Flemish maid, I went to 
church quite early and there seeking refuge in 
the first confessional, I imbibed strength and 
consolation from the good priest’s counsels. I 
now heard Mass and received Holy Communion. 

“ On reaching home I found my father on his 
way to the parlor to read the journals. 

“ ‘ What ! ’ said he, ‘ have you been out already.’ 

“ ‘ Yes, father, it is Sunday.’ 

“ ‘ But there are Masses in Paris until one 
o’clock. You ought to have informed yourself of 
this.’ 

“ ‘ I did know it, but father, I went early to 
receive Our Lord, expressly for the purpose of 
begging His blessing on you.’ 


RENEE. 


93 


“A look of mingled surprise and emotion 
passed over my father’s face, as he murmured, 
4 Thank you, my child,’ and embraced me affec- 
tionately. 

44 At breakfast, I perceived that my step- 
mother had just risen. She was still in her 
wrapper, though it was past one .o’clock when we 
left the table. A last hope remained to me. 

“ She is probably not well, taking a cold and 
unable to go out, thought I. 

“ When I found myself alone with the children, 
taking the little girl upon my knee, 

“ ‘ Odile,’ said I, ‘ do you never go to Mass ? ’ 

“ She began to laugh. 

“‘To Mass ? Oh ! no, big sister, I would rather 
go to the Tuileries.’ 

“ My little brother who had heard the question, 
ran to me, saying, 

“ ‘ I have been to Mass once. Oh ! it is so 
funny to see all the people bow their heads.’ 

“ The little girl now felt quite interested in the 
subject. 

“ ‘ Then I want to go, too,’ she exclaimed. 

‘ And if mamma will not take me, I will go with 
nurse.’ 

“‘Does your mamma refuse to take you?’ 
said I, pushing my inquiries. 

“ ‘ She never goes herself,’ answered little 
Paul, ‘she always goes to the park.’ 


94 


RENEE’S MARRIAGE. 


“ Madame, I cannot tell you the impression this 
revelation made upon me. By the side of these 
two innocent victims of their mother’s impiety, 
arose up before me the image of my father, 
abandoned to the influence of this unscrupulous 
woman. Lifting the child off my knee, I ran to 
my chamber and burst out crying. Only that 
morning had I begged God to render my 
father eternally happy, and it seemed to me as 
if I had just received a revelation. I now prom- 
ised God to be the guardian of this happiness, 
to struggle incessantly against every evil threat- 
ening my dear father, and especially that most 
terrible one of religious indifference to which he 
had already succumbed. 

“ My stepmother’s words, so full of disdainful 
pity were ever before me. On Monday morning, 
I repaired to the Louvre and made the purchase 
of some tasteful and elegant articles of dress. We 
had invited company to dine with us that evening. 
My hair was arranged in a becoming manner and 
unusual pains were bestowed upon my toilette, 
which derived not a little adornment from the 
jewels descended to me from my mother. 

“ As I entered the parlor where the guests 
were assembled, my father’s and stepmother’s 
looks were equal to an exclamation. 

“ My only object had been to appear in keep- 
ing with my position and surroundings, but 


RENEE. 


95 


unconsciously, I had surpassed my limits, and 
thus trenched upon two different varieties of self- 
love. My father was delighted, and presented 
me to each of his guests, saying : ‘ This is my 

eldest daughter,’ in such accents of joyful pride 
as thrilled my heart. Mme. Vangaramenghen was 
pale, her lips compressed, and the glances which 
she, from time to time, cast upon me, were 
angry scowls. At first, I felt confused and 
almost sorry, for I remembered these words of 
Mme. de Lussien : ‘ Guard against the seductions 

of vanity.’ I felt that these seductions had 
presented themselves, and for a few moments, I 
was completely silent. But, perceiving that hav- 
ing eclipsed Mme. Vangaramenghen I had al- 
ready vanquished her, I determined to raise my 
heart above the miserable pleasures of worldly 
vanity or triumphant defiance, and to conduct 
myself with equal modesty and ease. Since the 
occasion offered, I wished my father to see that 
a Christian woman needs be in no wise the 
inferior of an irreligious one, even in those accom- 
plishments and charms that please the world, 
and which God does not forbid when regulated 
within just limits. 

“ I succeeded, it appears, for that evening 
Mme. Paulus said to my father: 

“ ‘ My dear Sir, I consider you one of the 
most favored fathers on the face of the globe.’ 


9 6 


RENEE'S MARRIAGE. 


“ And his answer as he kissed her hand was, 
“ ‘ I should like to say that you are very kind ; 
and yet I am truly delighted to believe that 
your remarks are no exaggeration.’ 

“ My stepmother immediately arose and seated 
herself at the piano. As no one had asked me to 
play, I was pleased to listen and applaud. 

“ Mme. Vangaramenghen could scarcely re- 
strain her wrath. Next day she said to me : 

“ ‘ Ah ! if your religious could only see you ! ’ 

“ ‘ And suppose they could,’ was my answer. 
‘ What have I done wrong ? ’ 

“ ‘ Oh ! nothing,’ she replied. * I mean merely 
that you have emancipated yourself very speedily 
and willingly.’ 

“ From this moment there was an indefinable 
spirit of hostility or something akin to it between 
us. You know how we feel in the atmosphere 
the approach of a storm. Such were my impres- 
sions in regard to my domestic atmosphere. I 
was fully convinced that, in spite of all my efforts to 
the contrary, the storm was brewing and it must 
burst upon us, sooner or later. 

“ It came a little sooner than I had expected. 
The following Friday my father had invited com- 
pany to breakfast, two bankers, to whom he wished 
to show particular attention. I tried to inform 
myself of the bill of fare, so as to take all nec- 
essary precautions against encroaching upon the 


RENEE. 


9 7 


precept of abstinence ; but in some manner, either 
on purpose or through a mistake, I was deceived. 
The breakfast was composed almost entirely either 
of meat dishes or food dressed in such a way that I 
could not conscientiously partake of it. Declining 
the proffered meats, I told the waiter in an under- 
tone to prepare me some eggs. My stepmother 
whose ears were on the alert, heard the order and 
said aloud, 

“ ‘This is the first time we have ever received 
such an affront at our table.’ 

“ That woman is artifice itself. I confess my- 
self unable to follow her on such ground. I see 
clearly through all her cunning, but know not 
how to baffle it. The accent with which she pro- 
nounced the we did not escape my notice. Her 
object was to enroll my father on the list of the 
offended, by making him feel that I had likewise 
offered him an insult. Mortified at what had 
taken place before these two strange gentlemen, 
he cast upon me a look of exceeding displeasure. 
I struggled bravely against my tears, and managed 
to eat the egg I had asked for, my stepmother 
meanwhile launching at me some very cutting 
words. 

“ My only answer was, 

“ ‘ I greatly regret, Madame, not being able to 
conform to your desires.’ 

“ After breakfast, my father took the gentle- 


RENEE’S MARRIAGE. 


98 

men to his cabinet, thus leaving my stepmother 
and myself face to face. 

“ She said to me sharply, 

“ ‘ Mademoiselle, I beg you, never again to at- 
tempt giving me lessons in public.’ 

“ With folded hands and in as calm, steady a 
voice as possible, I replied, 

“ Madame, I have never thought of giving you 
lessons ; I only complied with my duty. I am 
not free to violate my conscience, and you were 
perfectly so to have ordered other dishes.’ 

“ Not wishing to continue the discussion, I 
sought my own room. Two hours later my 
father sent for me. I suppose Mme. Vangaramen- 
ghen had been endeavoring to irritate him against 
me, for as I descended the stairs I heard her say, 
“‘Ah! my poor dear, you have not reached 
the end by a great deal.’ 

“ Then the cabinet door was closed, and on en- 
tering, I found my father alone. 

“ He looked very angry, but seeing traces of 
tears on my cheeks, he seemed touched, and 
merely shrugging his shoulders, said, 

“ ‘ Why could you not, just for once, have done 
as others did ? ’ 

“ ‘ Father,’ I replied, ‘ suppose some one should 
suggest to me that for once only I deeply offend 
you, what ought my answer to be ? ’ 

“ Madame, I cannot describe the great change 


RENEE. 


99 


these simple words produced in him. He looked 
fixedly at me and then turned abruptly towards 
his desk. It was evident that he was much af- 
fected and wished to conceal it from me. In a 
moment, he said, affectionately, 

“ ‘ You see, my wife never thought of it in that 
light, it being so at variance with our ways. But 
rest easy, my child, this morning’s occurrence shall 
not be renewed. Hereafter, I will give the orders 
to the housekeeper myself.’ 

“ I threw myself into his arms and burst into 
tears. 

“ ‘ What is the matter? ’ he exclaimed. 

“ ‘ Oh ! I am so happy ! ’ 

“ ‘ Ah ! ’ said he, laughing, 4 if you weep for joy 
it is all right.’ 

“ And this was how the first struggle terminated. 
I thanked God with all my heart for this happy 
ending of it, but you may easily imagine my step- 
mother’s irritation. 

“ Henceforth, it was evident that the house 
contained two opposing parties. Every day wit- 
nessed a conflict more or less important. It be- 
came necessary for me to decline going to the 
parlor when my father was not there. In his 
presence, everything was conducted with decorum, 
manners and conversations were irreproachable ; 
but during his absence, one observed a great dif- 
ference in the behavior of some visitors. Hence, 


100 


RENEE’S MARRIAGE. 


it became necessary for me to decline the invita- 
tions of certain persons and to hold myself aloof 
from them. Dear Madame, how deceiving is that 
golden veil thrown over what is called worldly 
society, that brilliant, haughty throng surround- 
ing us, composed of persons identified with our 
families and calling themselves our friends ! Ah J 
when the veil is rent asunder or even raised a 
little ! . . . The meaning of much that took 
place in my father’s absence I did not entirely 
comprehend, but I understood enough to con- 
vince me that it was my duty to be very reserved 
and distant with many who visited our house. 

“ How often I thought of you ! But I supposed 
you were in the country, and writing to you pre- 
sented many difficulties. In my visits to the Sa- 
cred Heart Convent I was always accompanied by 
my father, and neither Mme. de Lussieu nor 
myself dared ask the favor of a confidential con- 
versation. In my daily promenades, I was ever 
followed by the Flemish maid whose prudence 
was not to be relied upon. 

“ And this is the life I have lead for the last six 
months, such the chain I have borne at Paris, 
Vichy and even upon my own estate in Touraine, 
where we spent nearly two months.” 

“ Poor child ! dear little martyr ! ” exclaimed 
the Marquise, clasping the young girl in her arms. 
Ren£e raised her finger towards the time-piece’s 


RENEE. 


IOI 


flowery hands ever advancing in their course, and 
said, 

“ I must hasten to finish ; I have abridged much 
and yet the hour frightens me. When my step- 
mother saw that the household treated me with 
great respect, and my father willingly heard all I 
had to say, she changed her tactics. Cunning 
and ruse having proved unsuccessful, she now 
had recourse to direct assault. As soon as my 
father returned from the bank she would run to 
him bathed in tears, and lay before him a list of 
complaints against me. The most trifling mat- 
ters, — matters in which I had not the faintest idea 
of offending her, thus became material for recrimi- 
nation. She always ended by saying, ‘ We were 
so happy before Ren6e came.’ 

* Gradually, this course of conduct gained its 
end ; persistent complaint by wearying my father 
and breaking down his patience, succeeded where 
false reasoning had failed. To irritation against 
his wife, which only increased her fits of crying 
and nervous excitement, followed regrets for the 
happy past when his home was the abode of 
peace. And this he sometimes made me feel. 
But very few words would have been necessary 
for me to have revenged myself for all these 
wrongs upon the cunning author of them, for of 
the seventeen thousand francs borrowed for only 
eight days, not a syllable had been heard ; and I 


102 


RENEE’S MARRIAGE. 


learned from the children that their mother had 
very recently bought a pearl necklace. But I had 
pledged myself to secrecy, and consequently, 
banished as unworthy of me, all thoughts of dis- 
closure. This my stepmother knew, or she had 
never dared treat me as she did, — me, who pos- 
sessed so powerful a weapon against her. Other 
motives besides my promise concurred in sealing 
my lips, — thoughts of my father’s grief and morti- 
fication, his unsuppressed anger, the discord and 
mistrust that would long afterwards reign over his 
home were this miserable transaction made known 
to him, — all, I assure you, confirmed me in the 
resolution of making every sacrifice to spare him 
the painful knowledge forever. 

“ Meanwhile, harassed and tormented inces- 
santly he had several times expressed the wish to 
have me married. My stepmother was delighted 
at this idea, whilst I heard it with a shudder. If 
it be sad to suffer under the paternal roof, how 
isolated and bitter the lot of a woman whose own 
fireside lacks the proper foundation of domestic 
happiness! Often had I examined my soul be- 
fore God, and fully recognized my vocation for the 
world and the duties of the married state. But 
marriage presented itself to my mind as the union 
of two hearts, penetrated with'mutual confidence 
and tenderness, sharing the same faith, the same 
hopes, and assisting each other on the heaven- 


RENEE. 


103 


ward journey. I saw with misgivings and fright 
that my father’s choice of a spouse for me would 
not be greatly influenced by such motives as 
these. 

“This momentous question would probably 
have remained in suspense until next spring, had 
it not suddenly been precipitated by a very un- 
expected occurrence. 

“ A fortnight ago an event which took place 
(too long to relate to you in detail), forced me un- 
willingly into a fierce struggle with my step- 
mother, and my father into the position of 
sustaining me. It related to the observance of 
Sunday. This incident suddenly decided our de- 
parture from Touraine. My father and myself 
arriving the last of the family in Paris, there found 
Mme. Vangaramenghen in such a state of exas- 
peration, that pushed to extremities, he de- 
clared his intention of having me marry without 
delay. He announced his determination to such 
of his friends as he chanced to meet at this time 
in Paris, hoping thus to aid the cause. 

“Alas! he succeeded but too well. At the 
end of six days, he received a letter from a banker 
of Antwerp, asking my hand for his eldest son. 
This banker happened to be one of the very 
guests before whom I had refused to violate the 
precept of Friday’s abstinence. We had met 
the son at Vichy, quite a handsome young man, 


104 RENEE’S MARRIAGE. 

possessing many worldly advantages, such as dis- 
tinguished family, great fortune and a brilliant 
future, for the father intended resigning to him 
the directorship of their banking house. In ad- 
dition to all these considerations was the tone of 
the letter asking my hand; it was couched in 
terms most respectful and even very flattering to 
me. 

“ My father with a gesture of joy, exclaimed, 
‘This exceeds my expectations. Renee, you are 
betrothed.’ 

“ We were alone. He handed me the letter. I 
ran over it, and finally my eyes rested upon the 
date which followed the signature. It seemed to 
me that an iron hand was thrust in my face, my 
head swam, I extended my clenched hands which 
happily met those of my father, for I was on 
the point of falling. 

“ ‘ Good heavens ! ’ he exclaimed, ‘ what is the 
matter? ’ 

“ And in a voice scarcely articulate, I replied, 

“ ‘ I refuse the offer.’ 

“ These words exasperated him to such a de- 
gree that the very remembrance of it still sends a 
thrill though me. He became pale as marble. 
Whilst I fell back in the easy-chair on the verge of 
a swoon, he stood before me, silent and motion- 
less, his arms crossed, his eyes gleaming. At 
length, making an effort to recover his com- 


RENEE. 105 

posure, he said, ‘Will you please explain your 
self? ’ 

“ ‘ Explain myself! Poor father ! to him more 
than to any other was I unwilling to reveal the 
cause of my decision. During the few happy 
moments I had been able to spend alone with 
him since leaving school, how much that was cul- 
pable in the sight of God had I not discovered in 
him, how many false notions, errors, prejudices 
concerning the requirements of our holy religion ! 
Alas! I am forced to confess that dazzled and 
misled by this woman whom he so blindly loved, 
faith was already very weak in his soul and the 
momentous question of eternity had become to 
him one of slight account. And it was I alone 
who must counteract this deplorable influence, I 
who must let fall, drop by drop upon this heart not 
entirely callous, the truths which slowly and almost 
imperceptibly would restore its healthy activity. 
If I left him, it was equivalent to renouncing for- 
ever all hope of leading my father back to the path 
whence he had wandered. How many times had 
I not promised myself to be faithful in this duty, 
despite all obstacles ! My father’s reproaches 
could pain me, but my faith and my heart spoke 
louder than his wrath. 

“ I said in reply to his question, 

“‘I do not wish to marry a foreigner. 

“ ‘ What nonsense ! ’ was his answer, with a ges- 


106 RENEE’S MARRIAGE. 

ture of contempt. ‘ It has not been six months 
since you were shut up within the four walls of a 
convent, and behold, now you are about to ruin 
your future just because of your partiality for 
such or such a country ! ’ 

“ He commenced to stride rapidly up and down 
the floor, then suddenly turned towards me and 
said, 

“ ‘ You must give up this foolish notion.* 

“‘No, never,’ was my answer. 

“ The manner in which I pronounced these words 
probably lent weight to them, for my father again 
stood motionless before me. At last he said, 

“ ‘You will go to your room and remain there 
until noon to-morrow, when you will give me a 
decided answer. If you persist in your refusal 
to comply with my most earnest wishes ‘ (and he 
emphasized these words), ‘ that you accept this 
offer and get married in a few weeks, you will 
have no one but yourself to blame if you are con- 
strained to accept a much less advantageous offer.’ 

“ Inclining my head respectfully, I arose, quiv- 
ering with emotion. 

“ At noon, next day, I sought my father’s pres- 
ence. 

“ ‘ Well, what is your decision ? ’ said he. 

“ ‘ Ah ! pray,’ I exclaimed, * do not ask me to ex- 
patriate myself ! ’ 

“ ‘ So I shall have to reply that even the most 


RENEE. 


107 


serious considerations in addition to a father’s ear- 
nestly expressed desires, have not been able to 
prevail over your fondness for the gayeties of 
Paris.’ 

“ And he added in a freezing tone, 

“ ‘ I am not yet thoroughly acquainted with your 
disposition, and I question whether I have not 
been too slow in believing that more than once 
others have been the sufferers by it.’ 

“ Oh ! how these words pierced my heart ! to 
think that my father inclined towards my accuser, 
and even regretted having been just to me, when 
I, for love of him, was practicing the utmost self- 
denial ! ” 

Tears rolled down the cheeks of the Marquise. 

Renee continued, 

“At breakfast, Mme. Vangaramenghen had 
not the delicacy to forego allusion to the subject 
of dispute between my father and myself. Dis- 
pleased at the decision which retarded my de- 
parture from the house, and greatly gratified at 
the same time to find my father so irritated 
against me, she tormented me for more than half 
an hour, by dwelling in detail upon all the advan- 
tages which I had thus cast aside. This, in my 
father’s presence was adding fuel to the flames. 
But just as we were leaving the table, the servant 
announced a visitor, the Baroness de Grenaff, one 
of my stepmother’s most intimate friends, who 


108 RENEE’S MARRIAGE. 

was in the habit of calling upon us in this uncer- 
emonious and familiar manner. My stepmother 
joined her in the drawing room, and, of course, 
gave her a full account of the storm in our 
domestic atmosphere, for, an hour later, my 
father sent for me. His countenance had lost its 
wrathful expression. 

“ ‘ Well,’ said he, ‘you have another aspirant 
for your hand, but one who is far from present- 
ing the advantages of the former. Mme. de 
Grenaff has a nephew about twenty-four years 
old, very good looking, of fine address and per- 
fectly educated. His usual abode is in the coun- 
try of which he is very fond, his tastes inclining 
him to a quiet, rural life. He occasionally comes 
to Paris, where he enjoys the advantages of the 
best society, to which he is entitled by his birth 
and connections. He has no fortune. Mme. de 
Grenaff told my wife, that struck by the great 
similarity of your tastes and his, your disposition 
and his, she had often thought how congenial a 
match it would be, but his lack of fortune had 
ever been a barrier to any expression of her 
views to us. Now, however, emboldened by 
recent circumstances, she has just mentioned the 
subject. As for my part, I willingly waive all 
objections to your marriage with a man lacking 
fortune ; but, I am not sure that you will so 
easily overcome the difficulties and privations of 


RENEE. 


IO9 


the position in which you will have put your 
self/ 

“ ‘ I set no great stress on money,’ I murmured, 
in reply. 

“‘Well, then, I shall write to several persons 
on the subject, whose address Mme. de Grenaff 
has given me, and if their answers be such as I 
wish, I shall invite the Baroness to introduce her 
nephew to us.’ 

“ I could barely utter a feeble ‘yes,’ the sound 
of which made me shudder, for it seemed to me 
that by this word of acquiescence, although it 
was still involved in many contingencies, I had 
just sealed my fate. My father embraced me, 
saying, 

“ ‘ Do not be so frightened, I will not pledge 
my word or yours until we see M. de Mont- 
pollin.’ 

“ The desired information came promptly to 
hand. My father gave the letters to me for my 
perusal. They were all strikingly alike, extolling 
the young man’s intelligence, and good character, 
and dwelling especially upon his superior educa- 
tion. The words ‘courtesy, exquisite manners’ 
met my eye at every turn. This is all I know of 
him.” 

“And this is something,” said the Marquise. 
“ Ordinarily, great delicacy in conduct and exter- 
nals supposes a little of the same delicacy in the 


IIO RENEE’S MARRIAGE. 

heart. However, the expression ‘superior educa- 
tion ” is very differently interpreted at the pres- 
ent day from what it used to be.” 

“Alas! it is what I think,” sighed the young 
girl. “ And yet, to-morrow witnesses my be- 
trothal to this man, an utter stranger to me, for 
according to the description of him, his appear- 
ance cannot be such as would induce me to repel 
the alliance at first sight of him.” 

And suddenly bursting into tears, Ren£e 
exclaimed, “ Oh ! what a marriage ! what a 
marriage ! If I could only fly from it and 
take refuge at the Sacred Heart or in my 
chateau ! ” 

She closed her eyes a moment as if over- 
whelmed and added, 

“ Providence in Whom I trust will not abandon , 
me.” 

“ Do not doubt it, my poor child,” said Mme. 
de Valbret. 

“Yes,” answered Renee, “I already regard as 
a favor from heaven that this interview so deci- 
sive in its bearing upon my whole future life, 
is to take place, at your house and under your 
eyes.” 

“At my house? under my eyes? what do you 
mean, my child? ” 

“ What ! ” exclaimed Ren6e with unfeigned 
astonishment, “ do you not know that this even- 


RENEE. 


Ill 


ing at your house we are to meet Mme. de 
Grenaff and this M. de Montpollin ? ” 

“ Ah ! yes, my child,” said the Marquise, 
“ thanks to Mme. de Broz for this. She per- 
suaded me to consent to receiving Mme. de 
Grenaff and a relative of the latter whose name I 
did not even ask. But I did not know that she had 
also sent an invitation to your family. Is she 
aware that this young man seeks an introduction 
to you ? ” 

“ No, certainly not. Mme. de Grenaff and my 
father wished to take advantage of an accidental 
meeting.” 

“ Mme. de Broz is acquainted with you then ? ” 

“ Oh ! very well. Mme. de Broz is a distant 
relative of my father. They have always kept 
up a friendly intercourse, and when Mme. de Broz 
passes through Paris on her way to the paternal 
abode, she stops and has a little music with Mme. 
de Vangaramenghen and myself.” 

“ That explains all.” 

“ I did not know until recently that she was 
your niece. It was only through this invitation 
received to-day that I learned the fact of your re- 
turn to Paris. To profit by it and snatch a chance 
to see you, I availed myself of the presence in Paris 
of one of my cousins from Belgium, for it was not 
in the midst of a brilliant assemblage I wished 
first to meet you. It must be alone, that we 


1 12 


RENEE’S MARRIAGE. 


might speak of the joyous past, and the redoubt- 
able present, also, that I might open my heart to 

19 

you. 

“ Ah ! dear child, you have acted wisely in 
this.” 

“ My cousin is to be trusted,” continued Ren£e, 
“ and will keep the secret. She accompanied me 
to the Jesuit chapel and is to return there for 
me. I must now leave you, dear Madame, for I 
am already behind time.” 

The Marquise rang her bell. 

“ Wait a moment, Ren£e,” said she, “ I am 
going to send some one with you.” 

“ Oh ! it is not necessary, the chapel is so 
near.” 

“ Yes,” replied Mme. de Valbret as the young 
Bressoise answered the summons, “ here is my 
maid at your service.” 

And again folding the young girl in her arms, 
she said. 

“ Ren£e, thanks be to God for permitting me 
to watch a little over your future. Whatever 
you do or say, remember, (I ask you this in the 
name of our dear Fanny, my sister in affection 
and your second mother,) remember, on no ac- 
count, to let yourself be surprised into a decisive 
answer, ere I have advised you what to say. This 
evening, I will make it my duty to have some pri- 
vate conversation with the young man, and my age 


RENEE. 


1 13 

and experience will soon give me a good insight 
into his character, his habits, his disposition. As 
for you, intrench yourself behind these simple 
words, ‘ I will give you an answer to-morrow.’ 
Good-bye, my beloved child, until the next few 
hours.” 

“ I leave you,” said Renee, “ with a heart 
greatly relieved. Your words have lifted from 
it a weight that was stifling me. I am no longer 
alone in the midst of anguish, and, perhaps, dan- 
ger. Now that your affection supports me therein, 
I hope.” 

Though her eyes were still moist with tears, a 
smile illumined her face as she left Mme. de 
Valbret. 


CHAPTER VI. 


A VISIT. 

AMIDST a multiplicity of pressing cares, thrust 
upon us seemingly at once and apparently prej- 
udicial to one another by reason of their equal 
claim upon our immediate attention, what is the 
best course to pursue, the greatest economy of 
time, the most advantageous management ? It 
is assuredly to keep perfectly calm, and one by 
one, taking hold of each duty, quietly disentangle 
it from the mass, giving it our undivided atten- 
tion, regardless of the others until this is finished, 
proceeding thus throughout. Even as along cer- 
tain shores in what seems at first sight but a con- 
fusion of rocks, a ray of the sun discovers to us a 
clear, open path, so the light of order, reveals to a 
reflecting mind the sure, safe road leading from 
a labyrinth of perplexing cares to the happy 
accomplishing of them, the goal whither one 
anxiously directs his steps. Tranquil, regulated 
but ceaseless activity, — such is the aspect pre- 
sented to us by the divine Workman’s operations 
amidst the harmonious and ever shifting scenes of 
nature. It is also in the human mind the sign of 


A VISIT. 


115 

true liberty of spirit, of a ripe judgment, and a 
great regard (too rare indeed,) for that supreme 
wealth of Providence denominated time. 

This art of regulating every hour of one’s life 
is, in many instances, a special gift of God to a 
favored nature; but oftener, it is acquired. In liv- 
ing, that is to say, in seeing our illusions vanish, 
the soul grows stronger and learns wisdom, disen- 
gaging itself from a crowd of vain desires and ris- 
ing above them. The soul is a land where storms 
from time to time, sweep away the unsightly rub- 
bish that gentle winds are powerless to move. 
When thus cleared and prepared for its reception, 
order takes root in this land, and if allowed to 
grow freely, it soon produces most admirable 
flowers and fruits. 

The Marquise de Valbret had always been 
deeply impressed with this truth. By frequent 
meditation, she had arrived at so clear a comprehen- 
sion of the value of time and life’s duties that she 
not only utilized every instant, but likewise knew 
how to derive from each the most abundant fruits. 
To be sure, this economic and conscientious dis- 
tribution of the hour presupposes a great spirit 
of self-abnegation, for it gives no quarter either 
to caprice or to undue repose. However, work 
is not so onerous and void of interest as might at 
first thought appear, for peace of heart, the satisfac- 
tion of having wrought good, and the hope of 


I 16 RENEE’S MARRIAGE. 

our eternal reward are all concealed under the 
somewhat rude exterior of sacrifice ; and gradu- 
ally, the fruits thus obtained become so sweet, 
that we forget the few thorns which pricked us 
in gathering them. 

Mme. de Valbret was deeply affected at the 
touching recital to which she had just listened; 
moreover, she was much fatigued by the visits 
she had been making to some of her poor, living 
in a distant quarter of the city, where she often 
presented herself, very plainly attired, the better 
to gain their confidence, and also to conceal her 
identity, in accordance with the promptings of 
faith and humility. A few hours only would elapse 
ere arrayed in garments befitting her high line- 
age and station, she, the elegant and gracious 
hostess, would preside over the brilliant assem- 
blage gathered within her drawing-rooms, from 
which ten illustrious generations had successively 
passed away, leaving to her, their last descendant, 
all their courtesy and dignity. Yet, she did not 
resume her seat, but merely bent her head upon 
her hand as if reflecting a moment. When sur- 
prised by Mile. Vangaramenghen she was in a 
deep study, to which she immediately returned 
as soon left to herself again. Her plans were now 
encouraged by the reflection that trifling as it 
might be, an act of charity would draw down 
God’s blessing upon the momentous question, 


A VISIT. 


II 7 

awaiting her decision that evening even as ligt-t 
vapors mount to heaven to fall again in refresh- 
ing dews. 

At the end of a fewYninutes the Marquise arose 
murmuring, 

“Yes, it is worth even more. By this means 
nothing will be concealed. Even in hearts near- 
est perfection, friendship is not always clear- 
sighted, and a glance at the home life of a family 
often reveals more than the longest accounts and 
descriptions. I ought not to let slip the oppor- 
tunity of taking this step. If, as I have reason 
to fear, my efforts with my brother-in-law fail, I 
shall be the better enabled by this visit to know 
in what other channel to direct them, having 
judged for myself of this young man’s life and 
surroundings.” 

Taking off her wrapper, the Marquise resumed 
the apparel she had laid aside on entering. She 
then rang the bell, and a servant appeared. 

“ Bring me immediately,” said she, “ a little 
Malaga and some biscuit.” 

“Oh!” exclaimed the old man wringing his 
hands, “ Madame going back among her poor ! 
It is so far, and night too ! ” 

“ Do not worry yourself thus, Pierre. I am 
not going far, only among some neighbors. 
Make haste and bring me the refreshments I have 
asked for.” 


RENEE’S MARRIAGE. 


1 1 8 

, These words recalled the old man’s accustomed 
promptness, for on seeing his mistress at this 
late hour resume the livery of charity, regret 
had almost paralyzed his activity. He soon re- 
appeared bearing a decanter and some cakes, on 
a silver waiter emblazoned with the united arms 
of Valbret and Rocheguimier. 

“ Madame will dine later to-day? ” he asked, or 
rather sighed. 

“ Indeed my good Pierre, I do not know if I 
shall dine at all.” 

“ Madame not dine ! ” 

Pierre’s voice as he uttered these words was no 
longer a sigh but a groan. 

“At all events/’ replied the Marquise, “I shall, 
certainly be back before the arrival of Mme. de 
Broz. Tell Frangoise to have ready for me the 
toilette which I have already designated.” 

She ate two biscuits, then took from her secre- 
tary the portfolio she had deposited there, and 
went out followed by old Pierre’s wistful glances. 

“ How dark it is! ” she murmured, as she walked 
along. “ I greatly regret it, as I should have pre- 
ferred making this visit of observation in day- 
light.” 

Taking the Rue Velpeau, brilliantly illuminated 
by the dazzling reflection of the neighboring shop 
windows, she soon reached the Rue Babylone, cer- 
tainly thus named by way of contrast, for this 


A VISIT. 


1 19 

street is too quiet to recall the famous city 
of ancient times, and its inhabitants too 
respectable and virtuous to merit the Biblical 
anathemas. 

She had not very far to go ere reaching her des- 
tination. Partly by counting the houses, and 
partly by the faint light of a lamp, she distin- 
guished the house marked number 20, and 
entered. 

“ M. Le Mahouet?” she inquired of the 
porter. 

“ He is out and will not be back before seven 
or eight o’clock.” 

“ Is no one of the family at home?” 

“ His grandmother.” 

“ On what floor? ” 

“ The fourth floor, the door at the end.” 

“ Thanks.” 

And not heeding the sigh which instinctively 
escaped her lips, she climbed the stairs. Gently 
pulling the seldom used bell cord at the room in- 
dicated, the door was opened and a woman’s voice 
said, 

“ It is already finished, Monsieur.” 

At sight of the Marquise, the individual who 
spoke thus, stood a moment speechless in aston- 
ishment. 

“ M. Le Mahouet is out, it appears,” said the 
visitor, who could distinguish in the shadow of 


120 


RENEE’S MARRIAGE. 


the door, only the head-dress of a Morbihan peas- 
ant. 

The face enframed in the white aureole now 
advanced, and the Marquise judged it was that 
of a person about forty years of age. 

“ Yes, Madame,” replied the servant, “ Mon- 
sieur is at the Palais Royal.” 

“ Could I see Madame, his grandmother, a 
moment ? ” 

“ I think so ; come in, and I will inquire.” 

The Marquise now entered a vestibule lighted 
by a night-lamp. The walls were decorated with 
sketches of still-life in hard wood, at sight of 
which ornamentation of the humble abode, 
Mme. de Valbret could not repress a smile, 
for she immediately recognized herein the hand 
of Xavier de Bois Roughs, whose talent as an 
amateur in this line she had often encouraged. 

In a moment, the servant reappeared, saying, 

“Will Madame please to follow me?” 

Taking the lamp from the wall, she preceded 
Mme.de Valbret into the windings of the narrow 
labyrinth called a corridor. Finally, she drew 
aside the slide of a double door which evinced 
the care taken to ensure the comfort of the ad- 
joining room. 

“Whom shall I announce?” she inquired of 
Mme. de Valbret. 

“Mme. Geoffroy, ’’returned the latter, confining 


A VISIT. 


121 


herself in this instance as she did when visiting 
the poor, to her husband’s baptismal name. 

She was ushered into a good sized room, com- 
fortably heated. At one end of it, in a large easy- 
chair on rollers, was seated or rather extended a 
woman. Her feet, apparently paralyzed, rested 
upon a stool. One hand held a screen, and with 
the other, she protected her eyes suddenly dazzled 
by the light of the lamp from which the servant 
had just removed the shade. 

Smiling, she said to the Marquise, 

“ Please excuse me, Madame, for not rising to 
receive you. You see that it is not the inclina- 
tion to do so which is lacking.” 

“ It is I who should offer you excuses, Madame,” 
replied the Marquise, approaching the chair which 
the servant had advanced. “At this hour, it is 
not customary to receive other visitors than one’s 
friends, and I greatly fear having been inconsid- 
erate.” 

“ Move the lamp, Anne Marie, it is blinding,” 
interrupted the invalid. 

“ Oh! how unfortunate,” said the Marquise to 
herself, “ everything is going to be in twi- 
light.” 

But happily, the Morbihannaise did not replace 
the shade on the lamp; she merely removed the 
latter to a high bracket behind the old lady, 
whose weak eyes were thus relieved of the glare, 


122 


RENEE’S MARRIAGE. 


without her features being concealed from the 
Marquise. 

“You are not at all inconsiderate, Madame,” 
replied the invalid. “You are as perfectly wel- 
come at this hour as at any other. I regret only 
the not being able to give you a more courteous 
greeting. If I have understood aright it is Mme. 
Geoffroy to whom I have the honor of speak- 
ing?" 

“ One of your neighbors, Madame. I live in 
the Rue de Sevres, very near here.” 

“ I congratulate myself at this,” said the 
invalid, with a slight inclination. 

“Madame,” resumed the Marquise, “you see 
in me a debtor to M. de Mahouet, coming to 
present my warmest thanks, and, also, to make 
restitution.” 

At this last word, the old lady looked at the 
Marquise in profound surprise, and suddenly a 
shade of sorrow passed over her countenance. 

“ Madame, you have made a mistake,” said she 
in a moment, “ no one owes us anything.” 

“ I beg your pardon.” 

“ Do not insist — with me, at least,” replied the 
invalid in a severe tone of voice. “ I know that 
my family has no debtor. If you have had any 
business with my son of which I am ignorant, 
please wait a little and speak of it to him.” 

“ I cannot wait until he returns.” 


A VISIT. 


123 


‘ Let us talk then of something else if you 
please.” Saying these words, the invalid placed 
one hand upon the arm of her easy-chair, and the 
Marquise, noticing that it trembled as she did so, 
was filled with compassion. Mme. de Valbret 
understood at once that though the plain attire 
had concealed her fortune, the few words she 
had exchanged with the old lady and even her 
mode of salutation, had betrayed her education 
and rank, not so easily disguised from one, who 
like herself had evidently been accustomed to 
the utmost refinement. Those who are reared in 
an atmosphere of distinction and elegance, never 
fail to recognize these qualities in others, no 
matter under what disguise they may appear. 
Feeling this, the Marquise easily discerned in 
the emotion, awakened at sound of the word res- 
titution the anxiety of a proud spirit asking 
itself what favor this woman, an utter stranger, 
meant to confer under the pretext of an obliga- 
tion. She hastened to say : 

“Allow me, Madame, at least, to tell you what 
it is I wish to return M. de Mahouet. It is an 
account book, a memorandum containing cards 
and notes. He left it this morning in an omni- 
bus where I found it.” 

A total change was now visible in the invalid’s 
countenance. 

“Ah! Madame,” she exclaimed, “ you have 


124 


RENEE’S MARRIAGE. 


really taken the trouble to bring it yourself, and 
so promptly! How grateful I am for your 
thoughtful kindness ! ” 

Taking Mme. de Valbret’s hand, she held it a 
long time in her own, saying by this expressive 
gesture, “ Pardon me.” 

And the gentle smile of the Marquise replied, 
“ Noble poverty, fear not.” 

“ I should not have requested the honor of see- 
ing you,” resumed Mme. de Valbret, “had I 
desired only to return the memorandum, but I 
was anxious to express my gratitude to M. de 
Mahouet. Deprived of this pleasure, by his 
absence, I cannot forego that of congratulating 
you upon having a son so good, so respectful to 
the aged, so — ” 

“Ah! you are a mother!” interrupted the 
invalid with sparkling eyes. Raising hers to 
heaven the Marquise answered, gently, 

“ Yes.” 

“ And Etienne then has been so fortunate as to 
render you a service ? ” inquired the invalid. 

The Marquise now recounted the charitable as- 
sistance that M. de Mahouet had given her that 
morning. 

“ He did nothing but his duty,” replied the old 
lady with evident delight. “ I should be truly 
mortified did I imagine him capable of acting 
otherwise.” 


A VISIT. 


125 


“ Would that all were like him,” said the 
Marquise, “but it must be confessed that the 
present generation is greatly degeneratd from the 
chivalry of our ancestors.” 

“ A bad sign indeed ! ” returned the old lady, 
shaking her head. “ During my long life, I have 
several times seen society in peril, and I have 
always remarked that a certain laxity in manners 
and etiquette either preceded or followed these 
sad periods. In my opinion, the disregard of 
etiquette springs from no good source.” 

“ And I add that it produces no good results. 
One who treats others with proper respect, like- 
wise respects himself. Is it not so? ” 

“ Perfectly true,” replied the invalid. “ Ah ! 
Madame, how very agreeable to me is this visit 
which you have been so kind as to honor me 
with ! I assure you, that not for a long time, 
have I enjoyed so great a pleasure. Alas ! I am 
prevented from repaying it, but since, as you tell 
me, only a short distance separates us, let me 
hope that, from time to time, you will favor me 
with your presence.” 

“ Rest assured,” said Mme. de Valbret, “that 
with your permission, I shall soon see you 
again.” 

A faint tap at the door interrupted them. 

“ Come in,” said the old lady. 

The Breton servant advanced, murmuring, 


126 


RENEE’S MARRIAGE. 


“ Will not Madame take her soup ? ” 

“Not now, presently, Anne. Marie,” was the 
invalid’s reply, in the tone with which one repels 
an unexpected importunity. 

“Oh! I beg of you,” said Mme.de Valbret 
rising, “do not- let my presence interfere in the 
least with your domestic arrangements. If it 
does, I am ready to leave immediately.” 

“ Pray, Madame, be seated.” 

“If you will take your soup,” replied the Mar- 
quise, resuming her seat. 

In a moment the servant reappeared, bearing a 
very small silver tureen, containing the smoking 
soup. She now lit a taper and placed it on the 
mantel, so that her mistress might have suffi- 
cient light by which to eat, without being an- 
noyed at the glare of the lamp. 

Proffering profuse apologies to the Marquise, 
the invalid commenced to take her soup ; and the 
former profited by this opportunity, and the 
additional light of the taper to scrutinize more 
closely her hostess and the surroundings. 

The old lady must have been a remarkable 
beauty. The weight of years of sorrow and of 
bodily afflictions in bowing her tall form, wrink- 
ling her broad brow and tracing heavy lines 
upon her still purely oval face had not been able 
to rob the nose of its aristocratic grace, the pale 
but unsunken lips of their gentle smile, nor to 


A VISIT. 


I27 


dim the lustre of those large dark eyes full of 
animation, kindliness and mind. Her hair, white 
as snow, and worn in simple bandeaux was 
covered by a cap of black lace, and a long 
woolen wrapper also black, enveloped a body 
visibly emaciated. From the manner in which 
she raised her head at times or extended her 
hand, likewise from her accent, one perceived 
vestiges of a habit of commanding, — that gentle 
dignified tone of command indicative of the 
Christian and the lady of quality. She had worn 
mourning a long time, and her lower limbs were 
completely paralyzed, yet her whole exterior 
bespoke that unruffled dignity and calmness 
which reveals the truest, the most difficult species 
of courage, — invincible patience. 

That she might be spared the trouble of reach- 
ing out her hand to the mantel, a little stand at 
her right, bore a small workbasket, books and a 
crucifix around which were placed a statuette of 
Our Lady of Victory and several photographs. 
O touching inspiration of the heart ! This aged 
mother deprived of her dear ones for a greater 
part of the day, must, at least, have their images 
before her; and to these she joins the souvenirs 
of the divine friends, faithful companions who 
aid her to bear the weight of trial, and lend an 
attentive ear to the incessant petitions of her 
heart, whether for the beloved ones still sur- 


128 


RENEE’S MARRIAGE. 


rounding her or those who have preceded her 
to eternity. 

As she placed the lid of the soup tureen upon 
the stand, a ray of light falling upon it, revealed 
to the Marquise some characters engraved upon 
the shining surface. Was it a coat of arms or 
only a simple mark? She could not distinguish 
which it was, but two miniatures suspended 
from the mantel favored the former supposition. 
One of them represented a young woman in the 
court dress of the age of Louis XV.; the other 
was that of a gentleman proudly bearing his 
admiral’s uniform. The lamp had already shown 
Mme. de Valbret at the end of the room, the full 
length portrait of an officer in uniform, but she 
had merely caught a glimpse of it. 

Yielding more and more to the joyful influen- 
ces to which her heart was so susceptible she 
thought, 

“ It is said that the diamond always retains 
its brilliancy, no matter what the setting ; but I 
go farther, and hesitate not to say that the 
duller the metal, the more brilliant appears the 
diamond. Poverty has certainly taken up her 
abode with this family, and I feel that her pres- 
ence has conferred upon them a dignity and vir- 
tues, the germs of which no doubt they possessed, 
but which never would have been developed 
except in adversity. God grant I may succeed 


A VISIT. 


I29 


with my brother-in-law ! for now that I have been 
able to judge for myself of this family, I would 
most cheerfully assist M. Le Mahouet in obtain- 
ing the desired position, as I should never dare 
offer him an inferior one, and at present I know 
none suitable except the office he seeks.” 

The old lady had now finished her soup. She 
again excused herself, saying, 

“I am really mortified that this good girl’s 
attentions have obliged me to be so unceremo- 
nious. She feared I might get weak for want of 
something to eat, as my son does not return until 
about eight o’clock, and I always wait dinner for 
him.” 

“ I learn from his cards which have guided me 
here, that he is a lawyer,” said the Marquise. 

“Yes. The dear child would have greatly pre- 
ferred the sword to the toga, and he had already 
resolved to enter Saint Cyr ; but there are some 
things in life that one cannot control ; circum- 
stances often force us to act at variance with our 
inclinations,” replied the invalid with a sigh. 

“ His profession at least allows you the happi- 
ness of having him with you.” 

“ Ah ! Madame, the words which you have just 
uttered contain an abridgment of all the joys of life 
for me. God alone knows the extent of his affec- 
tionate care over me, his old grandmother, for I 
am not his mother, only his grandmother, 


130 


RENEE’S MARRIAGE. 


Madame, as you must have already conject- 
ured.” 

The Marquise made a slight inclination of the 
head. 

“Between him and me, poor child,” continued 
the invalid, “ there are two tombs.” 

“Your maternal love is not entirely buried,” 
said the Marquise. “You have still dear ties 
attaching you to this world.” 

“ Attaching me is truly the expression, for I 
am astonished myself at being here. You see, 
Madame, I have been like the old oak, that 
though partly uprooted and half dead has yet 
served with its few remaining branches, to pro- 
tect the poor little plants at its base. Then the 
little plants grew, and, in turn, twined themselves 
so firmly around the old oak as to become its 
stay and support.” 

“And in entwining themselves around it, they 
likewise find it their support,” was the graceful 
reply of the Marquise. “You have then several 
grandchildren ? ” 

“Three: Etienne, the head of the family in 
every acceptation of the term, the title of senior- 
ity like all other titles of superiority when clearly 
understood, enjoining upon him most onerous 
duties, — then, two granddaughters, one fifteen 
years old, the other but thirteen. To my great 
regret, they had to leave me. At my age and 


A VISIT. 


131 

with my infirmities, I was not able to take charge 
of their education. Their brother has placed 
them at the Sacred Heart.” 

“ He has made a wise selection,” replied the 
Marquise, seizing the subject best calculated to 
make her acquainted with the invalid’s opinions 
and tastes. 

Then followed a long conversation upon edu- 
cation, from which they passed to society and 
the state of religion in Paris, Mme. de Valbret 
broaching all those serious matters, the most 
likely to give a clear insight into the principles 
and life of this family. 

The more the conversation was prolonged, the 
more the Marquise and the invalid were delighted 
with each other. The latter especially appeared 
so pleased that the Marquise, despite her fatigue, 
cheerfully remained much later than she had 
intended. Finally, before taking leave, wishing 
to learn something definite concerning the young 
man’s abilities and professional career, she 
said, 

“ Such an accomplished, good man as M. de 
Mahouet, must have numerous clients.” 

“ Not as many as he would like,” replied the 
grandmother. “ Etienne is young and very little 
known. Again, as you can readily believe, he is 
not one of those who accept all cases offered him. 
He must be himself convinced ere seeking to 


132 


RENEE’S MARRIAGE. 


convince others. He suffers from a weak throat, 
and moreover the uncertainties inseparable from 
his profession are very wearing upon him. He is 
anxious to exchange his position, noble as it is, 
for one more stable, more calm, and which would 
allow us to regulate our mode of life more evenly. 
Perhaps, in a few days, he may be able to accom- 
plish this. I have great hopes of it, especially 
for the last few hours.” 

“Would you consider me inquisitive in asking 
you what the new opening is towards which he 
directs his efforts ? I am much interested in 
knowing it, that I may assist him with my pray- 
ers, my most fervent prayers.” 

“ He is trying to obtain a situation now vacant 
in one of the departments of justice.” 

“ Has he much influential patronage ? ” 

“ That of one person only, but a very power- 
ful one. The Marquise de Valbret de Malouars, 
sister-in-law of the Minister, has promised to do 
all she can for him. I am especially anxious for 
his return that I may tell him this good news. 
He had not dared carry his hopes so high except 
for the intervention of a friend who charged him- 
self with obtaining this patronage for him. The 
Marquise desires to see him this very evening, 
and, as yet, he knows nothing of it. What a 
pleasant surprise awaits him ! Ah ! I can truly 
say,” she continued, extending her hand anew 


A VISIT. 


133 


to Mme. de Valbret, “ that this day has afforded 
me many pleasures of which I never dreamed ! ” 

Mme. de Valbret was not astonished at hearing 
the invalid, evidently a very proud and reserved 
woman, as was evident from the manner in which 
she had at first repelled all advances of the Mar- 
quise trenching upon their poverty or domestic 
affairs, now enter into the minutest details. The 
latter knew that her sympathy had enkindled a 
like feeling in the grandmother’s heart, whose 
earnest words and manner proved how deeply it 
had been stirred ; and she also knew, that the 
attraction impelling two souls towards each other, 
often acts more promptly than the closest relation- 
ship, or length of acquaintance. 

“ I do not despair of being one day very well 
acquainted with M. Le Mahouet. Meanwhile, I 
pray God to bless his undertaking.” 

“ It is already blessed by being under the 
protection of such a person as the Marquise de 
Valbret,” said the old lady, “for you as well as 
myself must know that the name of this admi- 
rable woman inspires respect, not only in our 
quarter of the city which is likewise yours, but 
throughout Paris.” 

The Marquise had not expected the conver- 
sation to take this turn. She made a motion of 
rising, but it was not so easy to arrest the cur- 
rent of thought which she had unwittingly evoked. 


134 


RENEE’S MARRIAGE. 


The grandmother continued, “ She must be 
at least eight or ten years younger than myself. 
I shall always remember with pleasure my hav- 
ing talked a long time with her at a ball 
given by M. de Polignac. She was then just mar- 
ried and as beautiful as an angel.” 

“ Under the Restoration?” inquired Mme.de 
Valbret with the most lively interest. “ Ah ! that 
was a very long time ago ! Like ourselves she 
must now have grown old and have tasted the 
cup of sufferings.” 

“ I have never seen her since. Shortly 
after this, the conquest of Algiers deprived 
me of my husband, who was a colonel in 
the army. I then withdrew from society and 
devoted myself to the education of my children. 
Alas ! very soon there remained to me but one, 
a daughter. Later on, I returned with her to 
Paris, on her marriage with M. Le Mahouet. 
Many sorrows overwhelmed me and my grand- 
children. I have now and I have had, for a 
long time, so little communication with the 
outside world that I know nothing except hear- 
say concerning persons and things beyond my 
own family. I do know, however, that this lady, 
then so young and beautiful, favored with fortune’s 
choicest gifts has since felt the weight of the 
cross, and that she bears it most courageously. 
Her father and mother fell victims to the cholera, 


A VISIT. 


35 


her husband died in consequence of a fall from a 
horse ; and the son, born twelve years after 
marriage, is also dead. He was a religious.” 

A prey to the most poignant emotion, with 
clasped hands and great effort at self-control, the 
Marquise listened. To think of hearing her 
own history in tones of sympathy from the lips 
of one whom she herself had visited for the 
purpose of consoling ! Life sometimes reveals 
to us these strange meetings directed by the 
finger of God. 

The invalid continued. 

“ It said that the young Valbret never sul- 
lied his baptismal innocence, and that great 
graces have already been obtained at his tomb.” 

Then bowing her head, she said slowly, 

“ It is no slight honor to be the mother of a 
saint.” 

Tears which she had vainly endeavored to sup- 
press now burst from the eyes of the Marquise. 
The grandmother with anxious surprise raised 
her head. 

“ Pardon me,” said Mme. de Valbret, “ I weep 
because — because I too have lost a son.” 

“ Oh ! how I regret my remarks ! ” 

“ No, do not regret them, for you could not 
revive a memory which is ever before me.” 

There was a moment of silence. Between 
compassion and the fear of saying something 


136 renee’s marriage. 

inadvisable, the invalid dared not speak. At 
last the Marquise asked, 

“Are your grand-daughters pleased with the 
convent of the Sacred Heart ? ” 

“ As well as they can be any place without me. 
They are such good, affectionate children. Here 
is Therese, the youngest,” said she, handing Mme. 
de Valbret one of the photographs on the stand. 
A pretty face, intelligent and with an air of de- 
termination met the eyes of the Marquise. 

“ And here is my C£cile, a little woman al- 
ready in mature judgment and behavior.” 

The invalid’s almost transparent hand now 
offered a second frame, attached to the back of 
which hung a small object dangling against it. 
Mme. de Valbret beheld a calm, handsome face 
blending the charms of extreme youth with 
a slight shade of precocious gravity. 

“ She is the living portrait of her brother,” said 
the grandmother unconscious of the impression 
these words made upon Mme. de Valbret. 

“ She must be charming, judging by her face,” 
replied the latter. 

As she instinctively turned the picture in re- 
storing it to the old lady, the object at the back 
of it struck her attention. It was a lapis-lazuli 
medallion upon which in diamond dust were 
traced tiny myosotis. Instantly, she arrested her 
gesture, and whilst apparently studying the face 


A VISIT. 


137 


of Mile. Le Mahouet, it was the medallion con- 
cealed in the hollow of her hand that she ex- 
amined. A moment sufficed to determine her 
course, — she must have the key of this enigma. 
A sudden idea shot through her mind. 

“ Madame,” said she, “ will you pardon me for 
inquiring if this medallion has always belonged 
to Mile. Le Mahouet?” 

“ No,” replied the grandmother, adding in a sad 
tone, “ and I truly wish she had never had it, 
since it recalls a separation. But why, Madame, 
do you ask this question ?” 

“ Because many years ago, half a century, I 
might say, I gave a similar medallion to one of 
my friends. Poor Fanny ! she is no more, and, 
this trinket, reminding me of our girlish friend- 
ship brings her vividly before me. We were 
together at the convent.” 

“ This medallion likewise symbolizes a warm 
friendship. C£cile received it from a young 
girl to whom she is devotedly attached, and whom 
she will doubtless never see again, for it was a 
farewell present.” 

“ Does the young girl not live in Paris?” 

“ Yes, but it is not distance alone that sep- 
arates,” said the grandmother, as affixing the 
medallion to the back of the picture, she replaced 
them upon the stand. 

“ It is I who arrange them thus,” she murmured. 


RENEE’S MARRIAGE. 


138 

The Marquise trembled with emotion. The 
invalid bent her head and tears gleamed upon 
her lashes. Oh ! the tears of the aged ! those 
tears which the last throes of life and its sorrows 
can still wring from a heart well nigh ex- 
hausted, how excruciating they are ! Mme. de 
Valbret took the invalid’s hand in her own, and 
with look and voice full of sympathy, said, 

“ Just now I wept, and I feared not to tell you 
the cause of my tears.” 

The invalid, covering her face with one hand, 
and yielding both to her own inclinations and the 
charm of her visitor’s gentle manner, murmured, 

“ Oh ! how I long to see my children happy ! ” 

The Marquise arose. 

“ Have confidence in God,” said she, “ in Him 
Who has filled our hearts with the ineffable 
solicitude of maternal love. Providence watches 
over all and guides the course of events ; yes,” 
she continued, with animation, “ a thousand times 
better than we could ever do. Adieu, Madame, 
I shall take with me a profound impression of 
these moments spent in your presence.” 

“ Pray repeat your visit very soon,” was the 
reply. 

“ I shall not, Madame, see you often enough. 
I cannot tell you how long it has been since 
1 had a visit that has done me so much 
good.” 


A VISIT. I39 

“ I will return,” said the Marquise smiling, 
“ do not doubt it.” 

Seeing that Mme. de Valbret must really take 
leave, the invalid rang her bell for the servant to 
light the way. Hearing the door close, she rang 
again. 

“ Anne Marie,” said she, “ you must always 
bring Mme. Geoffroy in to see me when she 
comes, even if I should be suffering or asleep. 
In the latter case, do not fear to awaken me . . . 
Evidently, she is, like myself, a victim to the 
vicissitudes of fortune,” murmured the old lady, 
softly adding, 

“ What a pity that Etienne should have been 
so late this evening.” 

Meanwhile, the Marquise with considerable 
effort was descending the badly lighted staircase. 
Finally, she reached the portico opening to the 
street. Just as she crossed the threshold a young 
man entered, and perceiving the outlines of a 
woman in the shadow, lifted his hat. 

“ It is time indeed that I was going,” thought 
Mme. de Valbret. 


CHAPTER VII. 

THE MARQUISE’S SOIREE. 

A YOUNG woman, bright, pretty and delicate 
looking moved restlessly about in the apartments 
of Mme. de Valbret. Rich and tasteful cloth- 
ing adorned this gentle creature. Seeing her, 
we might have been tempted to believe that one 
of Greuze’s most charming creations had become 
animated, and left its flowery frame, bidding de- 
fiance to the grave ancestral beauties, who, from 
their heights on the walls of the grand drawing- 
room, silently contemplated the scene. She 
seemed to give little attention to these solemn 
figures, but her eyes often sought the clock ; then, 
warming her feet a moment at the fire, she would 
rise, walk to the window, and drawing aside the 
curtains, endeavor to peer into the street. At 
last, she rang a bell. A servant arrayed in his 
livery of state appeared. 

“ I cannot understand it,” said the young 
woman. ‘‘You say, Pierre, that it was half- 
past five o’clock when Mme. de Valbret went 
out.” 

“ Scarcely that, Madame. And it has now 


THE MARQUISE’S SOIREE. 14I 

struck eight ! And Madame the Marquise has 
eaten nothing except a biscuit ! ” 

“ But was she to return in time to dine at her 
accustomed hour?” 

“ Alas ! she did well to say that perhaps she 
would not dine at all to-day. She added that she 
was going to one of her neighbors. I do not 
know whom she meant, but without knowing the 
people, I wish them — How can they fatigue 
and bother Madame the Marquise, at her 
age ! ” 

Mme. de Broz could not help smiling. The 
old man was evidently the senior of his venerated 
mistress, and this constant allusion to age when- 
ever there was question of sparing her care or 
fatigue, would have seemed to him utterly ab- 
surd, not to be heard of, had Mme. de Valbret 
used the same argument in urging an abate- 
ment of his zeal and activity in her service. The 
young woman replied, 

“ Oh! if my aunt said that, we need not be 
uneasy. A delay anticipated ceases to be a delay, 
Pierre. Please moisten the stems of the violets, 
I have put in the King’s cup.” 

A bunch of natural violets, Parma violets, 
showed their modest heads in the porphyry cup 
which Louis XII. had given this same Hugues de 
Valbret, whose hand had once pressed that of St. 
Vincent de Paul. The young woman knew that 


142 


RENEE’S MARRIAGE. 


her aunt was especially fond of these humble, 
fragrant flowers ; and touched at the kindness of 
the latter in so readily granting her request for a 
little reunion of her friends this evening, she had 
endeavored in this delicate offering to express 
her appreciation of it. 

Pierre hastened to obey. His hand trembling 
with respect he sprinkled the violets in the royal 
cup with a few drops of water to help them 
retain their freshness. It was then he perceived 
that this hugh bunch was composed of tiny 
bouquets. He turned towards Mme. de Broz, 
undecided and astonished himself at the liberty, 
he thought of taking. However, the desire tug- 
ging at his heart was so great that it emboldened 
him. 

“ Madame,” he murmured, “ might I make so 
free as to ask your permission to take one of 
these bouquets into Madame the Marquise’s little 
parlor? ” 

“ Certainly, if you think it would be agreeable 
to Mme. de Valbret.” 

The old man joyfully seized the bouquet near- 
est his hand and withdrew, actually smiling upon 
the flowers he carried. 

“ Oh ! how lovely they are ! ” he murmured, “ at 
this season of the year ! ” 

Entering the little parlor, he set down the 
taper which had lighted him, and clasping his 


THE MARQUISE’S SOIREE. 143 

hands before the portrait of the young monk, he 
thus apostrophized it, 

“ My master, my dear angel ! this is but a trifle 
and not even my own gift! Ah! if I only knew 
where to find them, you should have these flowers 
every day.” 

Placing the bouquet in an angle of the frame, 
he stood a moment gazing at the serene, beauti- 
ful face now illumined by the taper’s soft glow. 
At last he left the room, shaking his head and 
murmuring, 

“ I am not surprised that Madame no longer 
loves anything but the good God and the poor.” 

Meanwhile, Mme. de Broz all alone in the 
grand drawing-room gave vent in these words to 
her regret and impatience: 

** If I had only known this ! I who took so 
much pleasure at the thought of an agreeable 
surprise by coming long before the time! ” 

She at last opened the Erard piano in a corner 
of the room, struck a few chords, and then seat- 
ing herself at the beautiful instrument, ran her 
fingers over the key board. A brilliant allegro 
which she played from memory now filled the air 
with melody. To this succeeded an adagio of 
Beethoven. May not, perchance, the gravity of 
this new piece have been better fitted to an inter- 
ruption than the lively air preceding it ? Perhaps 
so. Certain it is that just amidst the music 


144 


RENEE’S MARRIAGE. 


of these slow, expressive notes, a voice ex- 
claimed, 

“ Really, this is admirable ! ” 

Madame de Broz turned to behold the Mar- 
quise standing in one of the doors and smiling 
mischievously at her. 

The young woman hastened towards her, ex- 
claiming, “ I had almost despaired of ever seeing 
you again.” 

“And I did not dream of finding you here at 
this time.” 

“ I was so afraid of yielding to my bad habit of 
being five minutes too late that I came an hour 
too soon.” 

“Just see how I am punished for having be- 
lieved you incorrigible. But what is this? ’’said 
the marquise, pointing to the violets whose per- 
fume had struck her attention. 

“ It is a multitude of little voices murmuring, 
‘ There is some one in this world whom we love 
to please.” 

Mme. de Valbret drew the young woman to- 
wards her and imprinting a kiss upon her fore- 
head said, 

“ You are more than charming.” 

“ Aunt, I should really like to know where you 
found that costume ? ” said Mme. de Broz, who 
herself covered with lace and satin, had been curi- 
ously exanining the Marquise’s attire. 


THE MARQUISE'S SOIREE. 


145 


The latter could not help laughing, for catch- 
ing a glimpse of herself in one of the large mirrors, 
she could easily judge of the which impression 
her figure must have made upon Mme. de Broz. 

** Never mind,” said she, ‘"my costume is like 
your playing, — a prelude.” 

“ I am wearied out.” 

“ Have you dined ? ” 

“ No, indeed. I never dine before seven o’clock. 
I relied upon breaking the bread of hospitality 
with you.” 

“ What childishness in you not to have had your 
dinner served, when you found I was so late re- 
turning ! Come to the table right away; I will 
change my dress afterwards.” 

Like the young princess whose portrait Mme. 
de Grignan has left us, Mme. de Broz knew how 
to eat and talk at the same time. As to the Mar- 
quise, this evening, she could scarcely do either. 
Her pale features plainly betokened fatigue, and a 
certain occupation of mind was also reflected upon 
them. The young woman noticed it. 

“ Have I not been inconsiderate,” said she, “ in 
asking you to change the quiet ways of your 
household, that I may enjoy this little reunion ? 
I am tempted to reproach myself for it.” 

“You do yourself a wrong, my child,” was the 
Marquise’s earnest reply. “ Enjoy to the fullest 
extent your innocent little distraction, and believe 


RENEE’S MARRIAGE. 


146 

that I am very happy to give you this feeble 
mark of my affection.” 

“ You are so good and kind ! ” said the young 
woman tenderly. “ If I lived in Paris, you would 
surely convert me.” 

“ What nonsense, Marie ! If you really needed 
conversion, I would not let you escape so easily.” 

“ Seriously, out of charity for you I am going 
to try and become better, so that when you 
undertake my reformation there will not be so 
much left for you to do.” 

“ I accept the task, on conditions, however, that 
you spend eight days with me in La Bresse, that 
I may have an opportunity of judging of your 
progress.” 

“ Most willingly. What a pleasure to think of 
returning to La Bresse,” she exclaimed, her deli- 
cate fingers meantime seeding a bunch of amber 
colored grapes. “ I will play the organ, during 
services. Your church has an organ, I suppose ?” 

“ Not yet.” 

“ Sure enough, the church is being rebuilt. 
You are going to give it an organ, are you not?” 

“ Certainly.” 

“ Then I will play at its inauguration. If I 
could just find there another young woman, 
musical like myself — ” 

“You will.” 

“Truly! I thought I heard you say that your 


THE MARQUISE’S SOIREE. 14 / 

neighbors for ten leagues around were anything 
but musicians.” 

“ I did say so, but such a state of affairs can 
be changed. This is a settled point, and when 
you come to see me next summer at my chateau, 
you will there meet a most beautiful, gentle, 
agreeable lady, whose bridal call on me I shall 
tell her, must be a sojourn under my roof.” 

* “ It is a young married lady, then ? ” 

“ She is not yet married.” 

“ A young girl ! Do I know her? ” 

“ Perhaps so.” 

“ How you puzzle me ! Aunt, I read some- 
thing mysterious in your face. Whom do you 
mean? ” 

“ Suppose you run over in your mind the names 
of the young ladies around me.” 

Mme. de Broz, a smile upon her lips, her 
thoughts lost in vacancy, sat motionless a mo- 
ment, leaning against the high back of the sculp- 
tured chair, whilst her hand, carelessly resting on 
the table, still held a handsome gilded knife. 
The eyes of the Marquise were fixed upon her 
with an almost melancholy tenderness. She was 
so young, so pretty, so artless, but alas ! so frail, 
nervous and delicate, despite her vivacity ! 

“ Oh ! I have it!” she exclaimed suddenly, 
“ Marguerite de Bois Roughs ! ” 

“ Ah ! you will never make a prophetess ! ” 


14B 


RENEE’S MARRIAGE. 


replied Mme. de Valbret laughing. “ You haven’t 
the least gift of reading secrets.” 

She arose, and arresting with a gesture the 
young woman, who was on the point of following 
her example, said, 

“ Let me beg of you not to hurry through your 
dinner. Here is some cake which you have not 
even tasted. I would remain and keep you com- 
pany, did not the hour warn me that it is time 
to prepare for the reception of my guests. I 
might be surprised by the arrival of some of 
them. Do you quietly finish your meal whilst I 
dress?” 

The Marquise now left the room and Mme. de 
Broz remained alone to reap the benefit of 
Pierre’s attentions, which he lavished on her, 
meanwhile murmuring to himself, 

‘‘Madame, the Marquise has eaten nothing! 
scarcely a taste of jelly and the same amount of 
chand-froid. If she had not had to do the honors 
of her table for her niece, she would have taken 
no dinner at all, I am sure. Her appetite van- 
ishes when she does not eat at the usual hour. 
If Madame thinks she can live long in this man- 
ner, taking so little care of herself, she is much 
mistaken.” 

During this soliloquy, Mme. de Talbret was 
engaged in her toilette. Frangoise having curled 
her mistress’s white locks, now arranged the 


THE MARQUISE’S SOIREE. 


149 


curls in light bunches, Mme. de Valbret mean- 
while gazing with a sort of resignation at the 
velvet robe and costly laces spread out before 
her. 

“ Does Madame like her hair this way ?” said 
the girl, handing her mistress a miniature Vene- 
tian mirror. 

“ Yes, very much.” 

“ Madame did not tell me what head-dress she 
wished to wear. I have got out the one orna- 
mented with feathers.” 

“ Yes, that will suit.” 

The finishing touches were just being given, 
when Mme. de Broz asked her relative’s permission 
to enter the room. 

“ O aunt ! how I would like to see you always 
looking thus ! ” she exclaimed. 

The young servant’s beaming eyes expressed 
the same wish. Arrayed in garments costly and 
elegant as became her high rank, although simple 
and unostentatious in accordance not only with 
her age but even more so with her bereaved 
heart, the Marquise de Valbret seemed a majes- 
tic apparition, such as one sometimes sees in 
those paintings wherein the artist’s skillful hand 
has set before us the embodiment of ancient 
grandeur, softened and mellowed by the light of 
Christianity’s hallowed sentiments. 

“You look like Ary Scheffer’s St. Monica,” 


RENEE’S MARRIAGE. 


150 

continued Mme. de Broz ; “ no, I have made a 
mistake, I mean Flandrin’s St. Felicite.” 

“ Try again ; ” said the Marquise, “ in studying 
all the schools, you may at last hit upon the 
exact thing.” 

Saying this, she handed her niece a little brass 
key. 

“Will you really allow me to handle your 
jewels?” returned the latter, fitting the key into 
a little ebony cabinet. 

“Yes, and to select which I shall wear this 
evening.” 

“ Oh ! how kind you are ! I must consider 
well ere making my selection.” 

It was the Marquise, however, who at last de- 
cided the choice, as the most expeditious way of 
finishing her toilette, Mme. de Broz being too 
long in making up her mind. 

‘‘Come, Marie,” said the Marquise to the lat- 
ter, “ let us go now to the drawing room ; and let 
me prepare you not to be surprised, if, from time 
to time, some of your invited guests disappear in 
my train, for I feel called upon this evening to 
hold several private audiences.” 

“ Aunt, you have really become a veritable 
enigma to me.” 

They seated themselves before the vast fireplace, 
the glowing reflections of which combined with 
the brilliant chandeliers to fill this spacious apart- 


THE MARQUISE’S SOIREE. 1 5 I 

ment with light and heat. The beautiful and 
delicately wrought tapestries gleamed forth in 
these colored rays ; and one might have imag- 
ined life in those heraldric figures that stood 
proud and silent witnesses of the joys and grand- 
eurs of the animated throng at their feet, coming 
and going, disappearing in turn as do all the 
children of man, all the sojourners on earth. 

“ I must finish my confession,” said the young 
woman, leaning back carelessly in the arm-chair. 
“ I told you that I had taken the liberty of 
adding some names to those on the list which 
you were so kind as to endorse. I must now 
show you these additional names. They are very 
few indeed.” 

Drawing from her pocket a little ivory tablet, 
she read aloud the eight or ten names written on 
it. At each one the Marquise inclined her head 
approvingly. Mme. de Broz closed the tablet as 
she pronounced the last. 

“ Vangaramenghen — the whole family,” said 
she, “ that is, the father, mother and daughter. 
Ah ! ” she continued, “ I know you will be 
pleased with Mile. Vangaramenghen. I am so 
delighted at the opportunity of presenting her to 
you, for it is something I have often thought of 
doing. She is a young girl whose presence in- 
spires the greatest respect. She is truly unosten- 
tatious, simple and amiable, yet her very glance, 


152 


RENEE’S MARRIAGE. 


I know not why, is calculated to awaken respect 
and admiration.” 

“ And her parents? ” inquired the Marquise. 

“ Her father is a most gentlemanly person. 
Her step-mother (for the young girl is the child 
of a former marriage), her step-mother is a little 
lacking in some things, but she is graceful, 
agreeable, receives well and is a good musician.” 

“You have done well to invite them, my child. 
I endorse your selection most heartily,” said 
Mme. de Valbret. 

“You must not reproach me any more with 
being spoiled by my husband,” replied the young 
woman, extending her hand to the Marquise, 
who warmly clasped it in her own, — this thin, 
white, nervous little hand. Just then the door 
was opened and Pierre’s voice solemnly an- 
nounced, 

“ M. the Count de Vaugrand.” 

“ It is you, dear Count! Good evening, my 
old friend,” said the two ladies in unison, as they 
stepped forward to greet him. 

The guests continued to arrive. 

****** 

One hour later, Mme. de Valbret’s drawing- 
ing-room presented a grand and beautiful scene. 
On all sides were heard the interchange of salu- 
tations, friendly words and the flow of wit. 
Groups would form here and there, disperse and 


THE MARQUISE’S SOIREE. 1 53 

form again. Animation reigned without trespas- 
sing upon the domains of dignity and reserve. 
In the midst of this polished circle, one felt that 
life still throbbed in the heart of that old school 
of French urbanity, which, unhappily for the 
present generation, seems dying out, carrying 
with it the purest and most salutary charms of 
past ages. . Pretty little Mme. de Broz, radiant 
with happiness, went from one to another, con- 
gratulating herself aloud upon the good fortune 
of thus seeing assembled friends from whom she 
was separated the most of her time. The Mar- 
quise did not resign even in her niece’s favor, the 
right of welcoming guests invited to her house ; 
and as is nearly always the case when a person of 
feeling, delicacy, education and great intelligence 
presides over a reunion, every one felt the charm 
of such a presence, and experienced a degree of 
satisfaction and pleasure so much the greater in 
proportion as it was calm and elevated. 

Against a background formed of the sombre 
draperies of the window was seen the white figure 
of Renee Vangaramenghen. The deep emotion 
which she vainly endeavored to banish was re- 
flected in her sparkling eyes, and her pallid face 
that almost rivalled the color of her dress. Sev- 
eral rows of pearls twined amid her dark hair 
were her only ornament. This simplicity of 
dress enhanced her exquisite beauty, and the 


154 


RENEE’S MARRIAGE. 


Marquise, from time to time, could not refrain 
from gazing upon her in admiration. “ Rente’s 
noble countenance,” thought she, “ is but a fee- 
ble reflection of her soul. And to think that 
such a child is to be sacrificed ! Yes, but God is 
faithful.” 

Near Renee was seated her step-mother, who, 
fully aware that a gaudy and excessive display of 
dress would not find favor in Mme. de Valbret’s 
eyes, had confined her love of ornamentation 
within the bounds of good taste. She was talk- 
ing with some on her right, but in a manner evi- 
dently betraying pre-occupation of mind, for her 
eyes, after wandering over the drawing-room, were 
finally fixed upon the door, as. were also Rente’s. 

Mme. de Broz approached the latter. 

“ I wish to present you to my aunt,” said she. 
“ You ought to have come sooner, I have been 
so desirous of your knowing her, and I regret 
that this evening affords you the opportunity for 
so slight an acquaintance with her. I am just 
waiting until she comes in this direction. But 
what is the matter with you, this evening? you 
are as pale as a lily.” 

“ I am a little fatigued, but that is of no con- 
sequence.” 

“ She goes out too much with one of our 
Belgian cousins,” interrupted Mme. Vangara- 
menghen. “And you know, dear Madame, that 


THE MARQUISE’S SOIREE. 1 5 5 

once started in Paris, strangers are not easily 
stopped.” 

“ You have too scrupulously filled your role of 
cicerone ,” said Mme. de Broz. 

“ Oh ! no, I assure you I have not,” replied 
Ren£e. 

She was silent ; the Marquise continuing to 
converse in turn with her guests, was now but a 
step or two from them. Mme. de Broz gently 
called her and presenting the banker’s wife, said, 
“ Mme. Vangaramenghen.” 

The Marquise’s penetrating glance rested for a 
moment upon the slighty downcast eyes of this 
brilliant woman of fashion, who, in spite of her- 
self, felt somewhat ill at ease. With an effort to 
appear the contrary however, she paid her respects 
to the dignified, elegant old lady before her. 

“ I have already expressed to Mme. de Broz 
how much I am indebted to her for having pro- 
cured me the honor of receiving you, Madame,” 
said the Marquise, in a tone quite gracious and 
pleasant, but at the same time so dignified as to 
savor of that extreme politeness which lacks 
cordiality. 

“And here is Mile. Vangaramenghen, of whom 
I have also spoken to you,” returned Mme. de 
Broz. 

The Marquise turned towards Renee, by which 
movement she escaped the step-mother’s scrutiny. 


RENEE’S MARRIAGE. 


156 

A look of joy and tenderness beamed from the 
eyes of both Mme. de Valbret and the young 
girl, whilst a smile of recognition flitted over 
their faces. 

“ Will you not shake hands with me, Made- 
moiselle ? ” said the former. 

Ren£e laughed outright as she put her hand in 
that of the Marquise, who bending towards her, 
whispered, 

“ Remember my advice.” 

“ Have no doubts of that,” was Rente’s answer. 

Mme. Vangaramenghen, separated from her 
step-daughter by the Marquise, could not see the 
pressure of the hand nor hear the words they 
exchanged, but Mme. de Broz who could, was 
filled with astonishment. 

‘‘They knew one another before,” thought 
she, “ and how could that be ? aunt never men- 
tioned it, and it is very evident that she has never 
iqet Mme. Vangaramenghen until to-night. 
There certainly must be something under all 
this.” 

Suddenly an idea flashed through her mind. 

“ Ah ! this is the enigma, I have been striving 
to solve the last hour or so, — a young girl, pretty 
and soon to be married, — this is the very thing. 
Ah ! dear aunt, you have managed so well that 
without knowing it, I have taken part in the play. 
I caught the words, ‘Remember my advice.’ 


THE MARQUISE’S SOIREE. 1 57 

So she expected to see Ren£e this evening, and I 
gave the invitation without a hint of all this. 
I am truly puzzled to know the meaning, but 
still when one holds the thread of the labyrinth, 
there is no fear whatever of losing the right path. 
Oh ! how very funny ! This is the first time I 
have ever played the part of a diplomatist.” 

This diplomacy was doubtless of too recent a 
date not to betray itself by some slight signs to 
one whose suspicions had already been awakened. 
Rente’s pallor now gave way to a fugitive blush, 
and her eyes were suddenly bent upon her hands. 
Enframed by the silken drapery of the door ap- 
peared the visage of Mme. de Grenaff, and behind 
her came Alphonse, whose head dressed a la 
Capoul towered above the trembling roses dec- 
orating the Baroness’s hair. In an instant, Mme. 
de Grenaff’s eyes made a tour of the room, and dis- 
covering Mme. Vangaramenghen, she soon man- 
aged, though saluting and chatting with friends 
right and left, to find her way to the corner 
whence the banker’s wife had made her a sign 
with her fan. She now took Alphonse’s arm. 
Midway, she met Mme. de Broz who, was advanc- 
ing towards her. 

“ How delighted I am to meet you this year 
in Paris,” said the latter. “I can now return to 
Vienna without fear, for no member of the em- 
bassy would have given me a very warm reception 


58 


renee’s marriage. 


had I been unable to bring them any news of one 
whose departure from their midst is so much re- 
gretted.” 

“ Tell them that, ‘ the farther from the eyes, the 
nearer the heart,’ is a maxim, the truth of which I 
feel more deeply every day,” replied the Baroness, 
in a voice betokening emotion. “ You know 
Vienna will ever be cherished in my heart as one 
of those memories, illuminated by the brilliant 
rays of that sun called happiness. But before say- 
ing more of those to whom you, more fortunate 
than myself, will so soon be reunited, permit me 
to introduce my nephew, M. Montpollin.” 

“ I thank Monsieur for having accepted the in- 
vitation to accompany you this evening,” said 
Mme. de Broz with a pleasant smile. 

One of those automatic movements, the very 
acme of the reigning fashion, assured Mme. de 
Broz that the handsome stranger’s manners 
and elegant bearing could not be surpassed. 

“Take a seat,” continued Mme. de Broz. 

“ I believe I see a vacant chair near Mme. 
Vangaramenghen,” replied the Baroness, fretting 
inwardly at being hindered in reaching her 
friend. 

“ Leaving you to take possession of it, as that 
is your choice, I will rejoin you after while.” 

Alphonse listened most attentively to every 
word that Mme. de Grenaff uttered. He was a 


THE MARQUISE’S SOIREE. 159 

perfect stranger to nine-tenths of the people in- 
troduced to him, and he was in mortal dread of 
committing some grave error. At last, he heard 
these solemn words, — words opening to him so 
beautiful a perspective. 

“ My dear, this is my nephew, Alphonse ; I in- 
troduce you to Mme. and Mile. Vangaramen- 
ghen.” 

Renee, very pale, acknowleged the introduction 
by an inclination. A smile played upon her step- 
mother’s lips. 

“ Ah ! ” said she, “ how wrong in you to have 
kept us waiting so long for the pleasure of your 
nephew’s acquaintance. You behold me quite 
angry with the Baroness for this, Monsieur.” 

“ Then I pity her, Madame, for there are some 
whose anger it would be very painful to incur.” 

Mme. Vangaramenghen smiled again. The 
Baroness gave her a triumphant look, endeavor- 
ing, at the same time, to draw her chair nearer 
the latter. 

“Let me assist you, aunt,” said Alphonse, 
pushing the chair on its rollers, and taking advan- 
tage of this movement to whisper in Mme. de 
Grenaff s ear : — 

“ I am indeed captivated.” 

And he was sincere. 

Yet that very morning he had said to Xavier 
de Bois Roughs, “ I shall see her through the 


l6o RENEE S MARRIAGE. 

dazzling illumination of a million.” But in 
speaking thus he had not counted upon the pure, 
calm beauty of her whose hand he sought; and 
the impression it made upon him was such that 
for at least six minutes, he had forgotten all 
about the million; and when his thought re- 
turned thence he found it a mere secondary con- 
sideration. 

“ I do not see M. Vangaramenghen,” said the 
Baroness. 

“There he is on the left, in the midst of that 
group that seems to be discussing something im- 
portant. However, in a little while, he will join 
us.” 

“ My nephew is very fond of the country, and 
spends nearly all his time there ; he is a real rus- 
tic, a — ” 

“ If I were a Parisian you would humble 
my national pride,” said Mme. Vangaramen- 
ghen. 

Alphonse made another bow, and fingered his 
long, thin moustache, which actions might be in- 
terpreted thus : “ I am filled with confusion, I am 
completely enchanted ! ” 

“ My step-daughter, like Monsieur, is very fond 
of the beauties of nature,” continued Mme. Van- 
garamenghen. 

“ And the distance from Touraine to Anjou is 
not so great that there should be much differ- 


THE MARQUISE’S SOIREE. l6l 

ence in the general aspect of these two sections 
of the country,” added Mme. de Grenaff. 

The path which Alphonse had been racking 
his brain to find was opened to view by these 
words, and he boldly entered upon it. 

“ Does Mademoiselle reside in that part of 
Touraine near Baugeois?” said he, addressing 
Ren£e. 

“A little beyond that, Monsieur, in the neigh- 
borhood of Chenonceaux.” 

“Upon the borders of the Cher with its pic- 
turesque scenery ! ” 

“Will not Monsieur take a seat? ” 

Alphonse hastened to accept the invitation. 

“Touraine is a favored locality; do you not 
agree with me, Mademoiselle ? ” 

“Assuredly, Monsieur, it is rich and fertile.” 

Seeing the conversation thus begun, the Bar- 
oness behind the shelter of her fan, whispered to 
her friend, — 

“ Ah ! my dear ! I am sick of this ! My poor 
nephew is completely carried away, so much so 
that he could not eat his dinner. I had some 
choice partridges for him and he left them un- 
touched.” 

Had Alphonse heard these remarks, he would 
doubtless have been convinced that his aunt’s 
desire of making herself agreeable had certainly 
played havoc with her memory. 


RENEE’S MARRIAGE. 


162 

“ He is a delightful young man,” murmured 
the step-mother, “ such elegant manners, so intel- 
ligent — ” 

“ One cannot make out what is going on ; 
everything is so stiff and formal.” 

“ Stir him up a little.” 

“ I dare not. I would never dream of doing so 
here.” 

“ A person may be prudent — and yet not so 
terribly straight-laced.” 

“I know him too well. He would make you 
die of laughter.” 

“ Do let me prevail upon you. ... I heartily 
wish somebody would infuse a little wit and 
animation into this reunion ! Do you not 
find my receptions far more delightful?” 

The Baroness made no reply. During the 
General’s lifetime she had been an invited guest 
even in the dwellings of royalty, and had had ample 
opportunity of contrasting the difference between 
persons of various classes and tastes. What had 
escaped her desires had nevertheless remained 
imprinted upon her memory ; and she found 
very enjoyable the drawing-rooms of the Mar- 
quise de Valbret, reflecting something of past 
splendor, and pervaded by that clear, serene 
atmosphere in which dignity is unfaltering, gayety 
honest and wit unsullied. The pleasure which 
she insensibly experienced from all this, blurred 


THE MARQUISE’S SOIREE. 163 

the edge of her blind and presumptuous vanity. 
Meanwhile, Alphonse continued his conversation 
with the young girl. 

“ Ah ! yes, a country life is indeed delightful. 
To receive one’s friends, to enjoy a liberty 
which do^s not exclude elegance, to hunt like a 
Nimrod, to be a king in one’s own little domain, 
to — to visit the poor,” he suddenly added, the 
remembrance of his aunt’s words just then occur- 
ing to him. 

At the last remark, Ren£e bent her eyes upon 
him. 

“I have always thought,” said she, “that the 
office of a landed proprietor should somewhat re- 
semble that of the guardian angels of a 
country.” 

“ Beyond doubt, Mademoiselle. These good 
peasants, these honest farmers” — (gracious! 
thought he, what a mischief of a track I have 
run into !) — “ yes, one does right to lend them 
assistance,” he finished off by saying, finding 
himself inextricably embarrassed. 

“ Charity is the grand remedy for the evils of 
our day,” continued the young girl. 

“ Certainly, Mademoiselle. Those who possess 
riches have the right to devote a portion of their 
income, every year, to the relief of the poor and 
suffering.” 

“ Do not call it a right, but a duty.” 


164 


RENEE’S MARRIAGE. 


“ Ah ! a duty, is what I meant to say.” 

“ Can you two make a place for me near you ?” 
suddenly inquired the musical voice of Mme. de 
Broz. Mme. Vangaramenghen and the Baroness 
to whom these words were addressed, both ex- 
claimed at Once. 

“ Ah ! dear Madame, is it you ? 

Alphonse arose immediately, and advanced the 
arm-chair in which the young woman seated her- 
self. 

“ Thank you very much,*” said she regarding 
him with an eye of curiosity, her thoughts 
meanwhile running in this vein: 

“Mme. de Grenaff should not keep her 
nephew hanging around the Vangaramenghen la- 
dies, in this way. I am sure Renee is not pleased at 
it. If he stays beside her three minutes longer, 
I will ask his arm, and walk him around all the 
rest of the evening.” 

Suddenly an idea crossed her mind. 

“ Oh ! how foolish I am,” was her answer to 
this passing thought. “ Aunt has certainly some 
intimation of a future marriage : and when I 
asked her permission to invite here this evening 
Mme. de Grenaff’s relative, she thought I meant 
the senator, who is a widower the second time, 
and has eleven grand-children. It was I myself 
who addressed the invitation sent to this young 
man. Most decidedly, he does not strike me 


THE MARQUISE’S SOIREE. 165 

very favorably. ... Oh! but it does irritate 
me. . . . What were you saying of Schubert’s 
music ? ” 

By this question suddenly cast across her re- 
flections, she endeavored to connect herself with 
the conversation which the Baroness was val- 
iantly sustaining. 

“ I said that Schubert seems to me to be the 
interpreter of souls, he is so expressive and pen- 
sive.” 

“ You are indeed right.” 

A smile of satisfaction accompanied this reply. 
Alphonse not daring to prolong his conversation 
farther, had just made a few steps in the direc- 
tion of the group which Mme. Vangararamenghen 
had indicated to him ; but he had not had time 
to approach it. A tall, distinguished looking man 
barred the way. 

“ I see that you have just left the Baroness 
de Grenaff, and I judge from this that you are 
M. de Montpollin.” 

“Yes, Monsieur.” 

“ I am M. Vangaramenghen. I should not 
have known you except for the above circum- 
stance. Let us have a little talk together, if 
agreeable to you.” 

“ Certainly, I am at your service, Monsieur.” 

The two walked off together followed by Mme. 
Vangaramenghen’s gold lorgnette, and the anx- 


RENEE’S MARRIAGE. 


1 66 

ious gaze of the Baroness, who nevertheless con- 
tinued to entertain Mme. de Broz with a flow of 
talk about the Austrians and the Bavarians. 

Renee felt her heart wrung with anguish inex- 
pressible. In the few trifling, commonplace re- 
marks exchanged with him who was going to ask 
her to link her life with his, what had she 
learned ? Nothing, nothing whatever concerning 
his morals, character, disposition. To be sure, 
he had that urbanity, that politeness and ease of 
manner which bespoke acquaintance with the 
best society, but which is a reflection oftener 
of the usuages of the day than of the man’s heart. 
What would the revelations of the future be? 
The poor child felt like a traveller who finds 
himself in a dense forest, the outskirts of which 
may abound with beautiful flowers, but the 
depths perhaps be the abode of venomous 
snakes. She trembled at the thought that her 
father was even now engaged in the all-important 
conversation with the young man, and if his 
responses were satisfactory, she would soon be 
called upon to ratify the promise, which, no doubt, 
her father had already given. To strengthen 
herself, she repeated mentally these words. 

“I will give an answer to-morrow, accord- 
ing to promise, and not until to-morrow. I shall 
have that much determination. O my God, 
have pity on me ! ” 


THE MARQUISE’S SOIREE. 167 

Was then ‘the expected succor about to fail 
her? The Marquise was nowhere to be seen. 
Just about the time that Mme. de Grenaff and 
her nephew entered the drawing-room, Mme. de 
Valbret had disappeared, after the servant, with 
a respectful inclination, had spoken a few words 
to her. 

Rente’s feverish glance eagerly interrogated 
the groups around her. Oh ! how she longed to 
fly from this joyous place, and take refuge in 
that chamber where a few hours ago she had given 
full vent to her tears and found in them courage 
and consolation ! M. Vangaramenghen and Al- 
phonse, withdrawn into the embrasure of a win- 
dow, had just made a movement ; doubtless, they 
were about to approach her. The banker presses 
the young man’s hand. Ren£e sees it, and also 
that they are coming towards her. The lights 
grow dim before her, she bends her head, her 
heart is beating as if it would burst. Once again 
she raises her eyes towards that door through 
which disappeared her support, her segis. But 
alas ! there is nothing, nothing to bid her hope. 
Suddenly a hand touches her on the shoulder, 
and a voice which startles her, says, 

“ Here I am.” 

The little parlor, that dear sanctuary, has been 
opened without Rente’s perceiving it, and Mme. 
de Valbret has returned to take the place which 


1 68 


RENEE’S MARRIAGE. 


seems to have been bequeathed hereby the friend 
now passed away. Ren£e rises; upon her quiv- 
ering lips is the smile which says, “ I hope.” 

The Marquise says to Mme. de Broz, “ Give 
me your place, Marie, I have not yet had the 
favor of a moment’s conversation with these 
ladies.” 

The young woman obeyed, quite astonished, 
however, for she sees that her aunt is not ac- 
quainted with Mme. Vangaramenghen ; and she 
knows well that Mme. de Grenaff has never suc- 
ceeded in finding her way to that same aunt’s 
sympathies and confidence. But Ren£e, whose 
hand Mme. de Valbret clasps, Ren£e, the mys- 
terious betrothed, is certainly the cause of this 
assiduous attention. Now i-s the moment to 
penetrate the secret. Mme. de Broz looks at her 
aunt, then at Renee, and listens. 

“ Are you a musician ? ” inquires the hostess. 

“Yes, Madame; but I scarcely dare call my- 
self one, beside Mme. Vangaramenghen,” is the 
young girl’s answer. 

“ Do you hear, Madame, what your daughter 
says? She reveals your talent to me.” 

“ Ren£e has nothing to envy me, Madame.” 

Mme. de Broz finds it difficult from the con- 
versation to draw the least conclusion. Saying 
to herself, “ I will return after matters get 
started,” she joins another group. Almost at the 


THE MARQUISE’S SOIREE. 169 

same instant, M. Vangaramenghen approaches 
Mme. de Grenaff. 

“ I have not yet had the pleasure of speaking 
to you this evening, Madame,” says he, making 
an inclination before her. 

“Ah ! and how do you find things? ” says she, 
almost as much with her eyes as her voice. 

“ I am very much pleased.” 

“Ah!” 

This “ ah ” is neither a sigh, nor a smile, nor a 
tear, but a combination of them all. 

A significant pressure of the hand is exchanged 
between the Baroness and her friend. Oh ! 
why should the Marquise de Valbret, unfortu- 
nately, be seated just here beside Ren6e, render- 
ing it impossible by her presence for the grand 
subject to be broached ! Equally impossible 
were it to interrupt this privileged conversation 
which the mistress of the house prolongs. 

“ Decidedly, some favors are very inoppor- 
tune,” murmurs Mme. de Grenaff. 

Alphonse stands a little back of the group, 
with distended eyes and quickened respiration, 
not daring to advance, not wishing to with- 
draw. . . . Mme. de Valbret is telling M. Van- 
garamenghen how one of the portraits in her 
drawing-room was taken by stealth, by the 
painter Rigault. The account is prolix and 
wearisome to certain ones of the group. Mme. 


lyo RENEE’S MARRIAGE. 

de Grenaff no longer pays any attention to it. 
Hoping to change the subject she makes a sign 
for Alphonse to approach, and, taking advantage 
of the first instant’s respite, she says to the Mar- 
quise, 

“ Madame, I have not yet had the honor of 
presenting my nephew to you.” 

Understanding by these words that the person 
she had been expecting and waiting to see is on 
the spot, Mme. de Valbret turns towards the 
speaker. Alphonse succeeds better than ever in 
the salutation with which he offers his profound 
homage. 

The Marquise, at sight of the young man, 
cannot restrain a slight movement of surprise. 
Her eyes are fixed a moment upon his face with 
an indefinable expression, and then a smile plays 
around her lips. 

“ I am delighted to receive you, Monsieur,” 
she says. 

A new salutation from Alphonse is the 
graceful response that words would have left in- 
complete. 

“ I am really delighted to receive you,” re- 
peats the Marquise. 

This emphatic welcome astonishes the Bar- 
oness. Alphonse himself feels greatly flattered 
at it, and he finds the Marquise admirable — never 


THE MARQUISE’S SOIREE. 171 

in his life has he met any one so imposing and 
withal so gracious. 

“ Oh ! this woman,” thinks he, “ is a veritable 
queen ! ” 

Renee believes the moment is come in which 
the Marquise will find the means of engaging the 
young man in that confidential talk which must 
throw a few rays of light upon the darkness en- 
veloping her (Rente’s) troubled future. But, to 
her surprise, Mme. de Valbret turns anew to 
M. Vangaratnenghen, and resumes the subject 
which the Baroness has endeavored to banish. 

“You will find this Rigault something very 
fine. Since you are fond of paintings, Monsieur, 
I will show you my best. I have a celebrated 
Velasquez. If you will accompany me, it will 
give me pleasure to show it to you. 

“ Most willingly, Madame, I shall indeed be 
very grateful to you.” 

Taking the banker’s proffered arm, the Mar- 
quise says to Renee, 

“ Would it be agreeable to you also to come 
with us, Mademoiselle?” 

“ Oh ! yes, yes, Madame,” responds the latter, 
eagerly. 

Talking together, the three withdraw and dis- 
appear behind the portiere of the little parlor. 

“ Oh ! but this is just too trying ! ” says Mme. 
de Grenaff in consternation. “ The last thing 


172 


RENEE’S MARRIAGE. 


one could have wished to happen ! Who knows 
when we shall see them re-appear ? ” 

“ If it be only a picture, my dear — ” 

“ Why should they take Ren£e with them ? Is 
she much interested in paintings?” 

“ Oh ! ” replied Mme. Vangaramenghen with a 
slight shrug of the shoulders,. “ how do I know ? 
she is always taking up some new branch of art 
or science. I am so pleased, my dear friend, at 
the prospects of our plan. You and your 
nephew must dine with us to-morrow.” 

“ With pleasure, provided the affair be set- 
tled.” 

“ Oh ! nonsense ! What is to prevent its be- 
ing settled now, since there is no difficulty as to 
residence ? ” 

“ Ah ! Madame,” says Alphonse, resuming the 
place he had quitted at sight of Mme. de Broz, 
“ I am soon going to be either the happiest or 
the most unhappy of men.” 

“ It is not in my power to bid you live or to 
condemn you to death,” replies the stepmother, 
smiling. “ I am not the sacrifices I am only the 
augur.” 

“ Ah! Madame, be so kind as to tell me, then, 
if you deem the omens favorable.” 

“ How can I tell you when I am puzzled my- 
self? This is the first time I have ever had to 
study a phenix.” 


THE MARQUISE’S SOIREE. 173 

Alphonse is charmed ; smoothing his mous- 
tache he makes one of his most graceful bows. 
Mme. Vangaramenghen laughs at the success of 
her compliment. Mme. de Grenaff keeps her 
eye on the door of the little parlor, still so merci- 
lessly closed. Her friend, leaning over towards 
her, says, 

“ Will you not stir him up a little ? ” 

“ No,” answers the Baroness flatly. 

Alphonse, however, catching the words, and 
being most desirous of ingratiating himself into 
the favor of her whom he would like to call 
mother-in-law, ventures upon a few remarks of 
doubtful taste. The latter bursts out laughing, 
but the Baroness, frowning even more severely 
than the Jupiter of the poets, nudges Alphonse 
with the end of her fan and says to him in an 
undertone, “ To-morrow, at her house, say to her 
what you will. Here, be very circumspect, both 
in speech and general deportment, or, I will take 
you home.” 

Between the invitation and the prohibition 
Alphonse finds himself in a dilemma, to extri- 
cate himself from which he rises and walks 
off. 

Suddenly a hand takes hold of his arm. Turn- 
ing abruptly he beholds Xavier de Bois Roughs. 

“ Here you are ! ” is the exclamation one hears 
from both. 


174 


RENEE’S MARRIAGE. 


“ Ah, my dear fellow, is she here ? ” inquired 
Xavier. 

“ Don’t talk so loud,” answered Alphonse. 
“ Oh ! I am above the clouds. Let us get a lit- 
tle farther off from all these people ; I wish to 
have some conversation with you.” 

“ I cannot, for I am not alone.” 

“ Nor am I.” 

“ Circumstances are such that I cannot just 
now leave the person who came with me. How- 
ever, I can give you a few minutes. Let me say 
a word to him.” 

Xavier now took a few steps, followed by Al- 
phonse, who, without knowing why, felt greatly 
rejoiced and strengthened, as it were, by the sud- 
den presence of his cousin. So unexpectedly to 
come across Xavier — to have him for a confidant, 
perhaps, an auxiliary — it was certainly lucky. 
Xavier might have gone the length of the room, 
and Alphonse would have followed close in his 
track. However, they had but few steps to take. 
At a sufficiently short distance to have permitted 
Xavier to lay hold of Alphonse’s arm, stood a 
young man, whose air of distinction and gentle 
gravity would have attracted attention even in 
such an assemblage as this. 

“ My dear friend,” said Xavier to him, “ I beg 
you to excuse me for a few minutes. I will 
soon rejoin you. I wish to have a little talk with 


THE MARQUISE'S SOIREE. 


175 


my relative, M. Gauthier de Montpollin, whom 
I now introduce to you,” he added, turning 
courteously towards Alphonse, to whom in like 
manner he said, “ One of my friends, M. Etienne 
Le Mahouet.” 

Singular thing indeed ! As the two young 
men looked at each other when introduced, a 
strange expression was visible on the counten- 
ances of both, a half smile, somewhat ironical on 
fitienne’s face, contemptuous on that of Al- 
phonse. 

“ I have the honor of saluting you, sir,” said 
the former. 

(i I am delighted, Sir, delighted to see you,” 
replied Alphonse, in a tone evidently implying 
that he had no wish to continue the acquaint- 
ance. 

“ What did you say was this young man’s 
name ? ” he inquired of Xavier, when they had 
moved off a few steps. 

“ M. Le Mahouet. Did you ever meet him 
before this evening? ” 

“ He is a fop ! ” replied Alphonse, shrugging his 
shoulders. 

“Etienne a fop ! Not he — you must be dreaming, 
my good fellow,” said Xavier, unable to express 
the thoughts these words awakened in his heart. 

“ Well, it is no matter about that now ; let us 
talk of something else. Oh ! she is entrancingly 


176 


RENEE’S MARRIAGE. 


beautiful, and her father is a very nice, agreeable 
gentleman. Questioning me as to my tastes, my 
occupations, my opinions on various subjects, he 
seemed quite pleased with my answers.” 

“ It is certainly most fortunate for you,” said 
Xavier, with a sigh. “So, you are satisfied?” 

“ Satisfied ? Say rather that I am delighted, 
transported ! ” 

“ And the marriage then is decided ? ” 

“On my side, certainly.” 

“ I don’t doubt that,” said Xavier smiling, 
“ but is it decided on their part ? ” 

“ I feel almost sure that it is, although I know 
nothing positive as yet. I have already paid my 
respects to the lady, and I have really been in- 
spired in saying most agreeable things to her. 
I have spoken to her of the pleasure of visiting 
the poor — ” 

Xavier started involuntarily, and casting a 
severe glance at Alphonse said, “ It is all very 
well to say pretty things before marriage pro- 
vided one intends to repeat them afterwards.” 

“ Oh ! I assure you I shall allow her to do just 
as she pleases, in regard to alms-giving, provided 
she is reasonable. I will even go to Mass with 
her. She shall have no cause of complaint. You 
see, my dear fellow, that I am completely capti- 
vated.” 

“ So much the better. You know that no one 


THE MARQUISE'S SOIREE. 1 77 

desires your happiness more earnestly than my- 
self." 

“ Yes, you are a good fellow, and I am devoted 
to you.” 

“ Poor Alphonse ! ” sighed M. de Bois Rouges. 

“ Ah ! why has he directed our steps in this 
quarter ? ” 

The answer to this question needed not the as- 
sistance of words ; for a glance was far superior 
to any verbal description in a rapid analysis of 
the wealth of delicacies temptingly set out upon 
silver trays. After partaking of the family din- 
ner at his aunt’s, Alphonse was not disposed 
to be indifferent to the pleasures of this gastro- 
nomic display immediately under his eye. On the 
contrary, his sympathy with what was going 
on around him found vent in the following 
words, 

“Take some of this iced punch, Xavier, it is 
delicious." 

“Yes, thank you, I will," was the reply. 

“ Ah ! here are sandwiches ; these are famous. 
I am going to pass you one." 

“ No, I thank you, I am not hungry.” 

“ One is always hungry for a sandwich, just 
try this." 

“ No, I want nothing more." 

“You anchorite! . . . But my good fellow, you 
have just come, have you not ? I have been 


178 


RENEE’S MARRIAGE. 


here a long time, and I saw nothing of you until 
you touched me on the arm.” 

“ I arrived about a quarter of an hour ago. 
Ah! I was strongly tempted to impatience.” 

“ You ! ” exclaimed Alphonse, laughing. “ How 
did that happen ? ” 

“ My uncle De Bois Roughs, the one who lives 
in Rambouillet, came in unexpectedly, in the 
early part of the evening, to consult us about 
some changes he desires to make in his property. 
I was caught at home. It was absolutely nec- 
essary for me to remain, and take part in the con- 
sultation. My uncle seemed to have great diffi- 
culty in coming to a decision, for no matter what 
suggestion I made, he contrived to find some 
objection, and consequently, the whole ground 
of discussion had to be gone over'again. I dared 
not leave lest I wound his feelings ; and seeing 
no prospect of the conversation coming to an end 
very soon, I really felt worried at thoughts of the 
annoyance this delay must cause my poor friend, 
Le Mahouet.” 

“ He is very sensitive then, is he, this friend of 
yours? ” 

“ One need not be very sensitive to feel wor- 
ried at such a delay when circumstanced as he is. 
He is poor, courageous, industrious, and the sup- 
port of his whole family. I was to present him 
this evening to the Marquise de Valbret, with the 


THE MARQUISE’S SOIREE. 179 

intention of enlisting her influence in his behalf 
with her brother-in-law, M. de Brian, who is one 
of the ministers of state.” 

“Your friend wishes to be First President, I 
suppose ? ” 

“ No, answered Xavier in a tone of displeasure, 
“ he seeks an humble and laborious situation in 
one of the departments of the ministry. 

“Indeed! “said Alphonse,” “picking up a 
glass, 44 1 am glad it is not myself.” 

44 I cannot understand why you seem so ill-dis- 
posed towards him.” 

44 I do not like him, answered Alphonse some- 
what curtly, as he finished emptying the white 
shell all impregnated with an exotic perfume. 

44 1 am sorry for that, on your account,” said 
Xavier very gently, 44 for let me tell you, I can- 
not but think that you are in the wrong.” 

“ Possibly. I shall be obliged to you however, 
not to bring me in contact with this young man,” 
added Alphonse rising, 44 his position — ” 

Xavier smiled. 

“His position!” he exclaimed. “I can tell 
you that he belongs to a family superior to our 
own.” 

44 No matter, my dear fellow, he does not suit 
me.” 

44 Oh ! make your mind easy on that point, I 
will not bring you in contact with him.” 


180 RENEE’S MARRIAGE. 

“ I beg you not even to speak to him of me.” 

“ What severity ! ” 

“ What difference does it make to you ? I really 
wish you would promise me not to mention my 
name to him.” 

“Oh! willingly. You must admit, Alphonse, 
that you certainly don’t stop half way in your 
antipathies.” 

Alphonse made no reply. 

“ That is all very well ; ” continued Xavier, 
“ but do tell me why you have not yet pointed 
out to me your betrothed, during all the time we 
have been talking here together? ” 

The word betrothed brought a smile to 
Alphonse’s face. 

“ Ah ! since I am thus wandering around mel- 
ancholy, do you not see that she is far from me 

“ She has left already? I regret it. I wished to 
make her acquaintance, and be able to tell my 
mother and Marguerite something about her.” 

“ Well, my dear, you are going to be satisfied. 
She and her father are in the apartments of Mme. 
de Valbret, who desired M. Vangaramenghen to 
see a Velasquez that is much admired. To tell 
the truth, I really think that the Marquise (who, 
by the way, is a woman of most commanding 
presence, so much so than I was deeply im- 
pressed),” — 

“ You are right,” answered Xavier, “ and if you 


THE MARQUISE’S SOIREE. l8l 

knew her better you would see what a kind heart 
is concealed under this majestic appearance.” 

“ I am not surprised to hear it. She gave me 
a cordial welcome. But, as I was saying, I do 
think that a woman who has mingled with the 
cream of society like the Marquise de Valbret, 
ought to have known better than to have taken 
M. and Mile. Vangaramenghen away from the rest 
of the assemblage, for over an hour.” 

“An hour!” 

“ Yes, it is more than an hour and a quarter 
since they left the drawing-room to look at this 
Velasquez, and, I suppose, the rest of the collec- 
tion.” 

“ It is strange,” thought Xavier, “ Mme. de 
Valbret has no collection of paintings. My dear 
Alphonse,” he continued, “ I ask you to present 
me as soon as you can, to the family with whom 
you expect to identify yourself. Meanwhile, I 
must leave you, for I cannot remain away from 
M. Mahouet any longer. When the Marquise re- 
appears, I shall take fitienne to her at once. I 
do not think that our conversation (that is, 
Etienne’s and mine,) with her will be long, and 
whilst proving myself a true friend to him, on 
the one hand, I may also find means of being a 
faithful cousin.” 

“ Oh ! I was so glad to see you.’ 

“And I was glad to see you. This morning, I 


182 


RENEE’S MARRIAGE. 


had not the faintest idea of being a witness of 
this solemn interview.” 

“ After while, we will — ” 

“ Very well, I understand.” 

“ Stop a minute ; just look at my aunt ! She 
points (like a good hunting-dog,) at the door 
behind which she saw the Marquise and Mile. 
Renee disappear.” 

“ What ! ” said Xavier laughing, “is this the way 
you speak of your mediatrix, your good genius? ” 

“ Oh ! my dear fellow ! just guess if you can,’ 
replied Alphonse, taking hold of Xavier’s arm, 
“her bill of fare at the festive dinner welcoming 
me to her house ! ” 

“ Let me go, indeed you must, Alphonse; some 
other time you can tell me all that. I must return 
to M. Le Mahouet.” 

“Just one word more.” 

Ere this one word could be uttered, the tapes- 
try covering the entrance to the little parlor was 
raised, and Mme.de Valbret appeared, holding 
Ren6e by the hand. The Marquise was smil- 
ing; the young girl’s eyes were moist with 
tears, but it was evident that her emotions were 
those of joy. M. Vangaramenghen following im- 
mediately upon their footsteps, parted with them 
as soon as they entered the drawing-room, and 
was soon lost amid the groups engaged in conver- 
sation here and there throughout the room, thus 


THE MARQUISE’S SOIREE. 183 

leaving to the Marquise the care of reconducting 
Ren£e to her stepmother. 

At sight of Renee and the Marquise, Alphonse 
forgot all about the one word which he had just 
been so anxious for his cousin to hear, and said 
eagerly, 

“ Look, Xavier, there they are ! ” 

Turning in the direction indicated, the latter 
perceived Ren6e, and something like a shock 
passed through his frame as he recognized 
her. 

“ She ! ” he murmured. 

“What!” thought he, “is it possible that this 
young girl of ardent prayer, of eloquent tears, 
this young girl whose pure, Christian soul is re- 
flected in the chaste, poetic beauty of her face, 
must be sacrificed in marriage to a man utterly 
incapable of a serious idea, a stranger to the least 
devotion, careless as to everything even the salva- 
tion of his soul ! ” Ah ! the indifference and levity 
of modern times know well how to form such 
unions! ” 

“ Unhappy child ! ” sighed Xavier, “ she will die 
of grief ! ” 

“ Don’t you think she will be an honor to me ? ” 
whispered Alphonse. 

“Yes,” answered Xavier, coldly, turning to 
leave. He had caught Mme. de Valbret’s eye, 
and he hastened to rejoin feienne. 


RENEE’S MARRIAGE. 


184 

“ Pardon me,” said he to the latter, “ meeting 
my cousin here unexpectedly, circumstances 
forced me into a long conversation with him. I 
am now at your service. There is the Marquise 
de Valbret — the lady on our right, dressed in 
black velvet. Have you no acquaintance what- 
ever with her ? ” 

“ I saw her last year, at one of Pere Monsabre’s 
conferences, but as I was some distance from her, 
I should not have recognized her again.” 

Xavier thought his friend’s manner was some- 
what absent-minded. 

“ Do not get nervous,” said Xavier to him, “ or 
feel ill at ease in thinking of this interview with 
the Marquise ; she is a person of charming simplic- 
ity ” 

Instinctively, he followed Etienne’s glance tow- 
ards the two ladies who had walked the length of 
the room. . . . Ah ! it was not upon the Mar- 
quise that Etienne’s glance was fixed. 

“Come,” said M. de Bois Roughs, “let us 
hasten to the Marquise, before she is taken pos- 
session of by other guests. She saw me, I am 
sure ; and it is likely that she was coming 
to us.” 

Saying this, he directed his steps towards the 
little parlor, the door of which always so rigor- 
ously kept closed, he was surprised to find open 
on a festive occasion like this. 


THE MARQUISE’S SOIREE. 1 85 

“ It is in this room that the Marquise is to re- 
ceive us/’ said Xavier to his friend, showing him 
the entrance to the dear sanctuary. “ I dare not 
introduce you into it ; and I much regret this, for 
I should like you to look at the portrait of Jean 
de Valbret. I repeat it, dear Etienne, you must 
speak to the Marquise with perfect confidence; 
don’t be afraid to open your heart to her, and ex- 
press yourself unreservedly upon whatever subject 
she questions you, even as to your opinion of the 
various persons whose aid you hope to obtain in 
carrying out your plans, as this will enable her 
the better to judge of their character, her sole 
motive in questioning you about them. Mme. de 
Valbret is a woman whose piety comprehends all 
the delicacies of tact and discretion. You will 
feel your heart warmed and encouraged by her 
words, — I — ” 

Interrupting himself, he said, “ I was sure she 
would give us her immediate attention.” 

And indeed the Marquise approached. The 
two young men advanced towards her. 

“ Madame,” said Xavier, “ here is M. Le Ma- 
houet who wishes to say that he has already 
much to thank you for.” 

“ Is that so, Monsieur ? ” answered the Marquise 
smiling, as Etienne made a profound inclination 
before her. 

“Certainly, Madame. I am deeply grateful for 


RENEE’S MARRIAGE. 


1 86 

the favor of being permitted to tender you my 
respects in person.” 

“ Would to God I were able to add more sub- 
stantial favors,” answered Mme. de Valbret, “ for 
you must know, Monsieur, that I am always 
ready to assist a friend of Xavier de Bois Rouges.” 
This time it was the young Viscount who made a 
courteous inclination to the Marquise. “ Will you 
follow me?” continued the latter. “You know, 
Xavier, that the consultation is to be held in the 
depths of my hermitage.” 

They entered the little parlor. It was lighted 
by a single lamp veiled in gauze. Through the 
Aubusson portiere, which the Marquise let down 
as she entered, one heard the mingled voices of 
the gay throng in the grand drawing-room, like 
the murmuring of peaceful billows beating against 
the shore. On leaving that brilliantly lighted 
apartment with its festive appointments, its 
animated groups, its sounds of merriment, one 
experienced a sudden impression of rest and 
refreshment in this quiet peaceful spot, seemingly 
wrapped in the mantle of twilight, and just far 
enough removed from the surrounding festivities 
to beget a keen appreciation of the comparative 
silence reigning here. 

Mme. de Valbret, taking the easy-chair she was 
accustomed to occupy, invited the young men to 
be seated. 


THE MARQUISE’S SOIREE. l8 J 

“ I suppose you told M. Mahouet to bring a 
number of references, did you not, Xavier?” 
said the Marquise. 

“Yes, Madame, and he has complied most 
scrupulously with your request.” 

Before proceeding any farther in the matter, I 
must ask you, not him, for a little enlightenment 
on a certain point.” 

“And what is it, Madame?” 

“ When I entered the drawing-room, you were 
talking with a young man who was invited to my 
house this evening, for the first time. You seem 
to be on very familiar terms with each other. Is 
he a mere chance acquaintance, whom you met 
here, did you know him before, or, are you in any 
way connected with him ? ” 

“ I have been connected with him, Madame, 
ever since I was born ; and so strong are the 
bonds uniting us that neither he nor I could break 
them, even if we wished to do so. This young 
man is my first cousin.” 

“This M. de Montpollin your cousin? how is 
that?” 

“ Pardon me,” said Xavier with a smile playing 
around his lips, “ he has another name, Gauthier, 
that also of my mother.” 

“Ah!” replied Mme. de Valbret, “now I un- 
derstand. Are you very intimate ? ” 

“Yes, Madame/’ 


RENEE’S MARRIAGE. 


188 

‘‘Even to the extent of mutual confidence?” 

“ Sometimes.” 

Reflecting a moment the Marquise continued, 
“ Xavier, do you know the secret of that young 
man’s being here, this evening?” 

“Yes, Madame, I know it.” 

“ Ah ! indeed! ” 

“ I did not think that — ” 

“ Well, never mind that now. Listen to me. 
I must begin however by telling you something 
which you will be very sorry to hear. This even- 
ing whilst the company was assembling, I heard 
from the minister, to whom I had written in be- 
half of M. Mahouet. He sent the answer by his 
secretary, in token of his regard for me, and de- 
sired to comply with my request. But alas ! 
pleasing as was the form of his message, the sub- 
stance of it remained unchanged, and I am truly 
pained to tell you, Monsieur,” she continued 
turning to Etienne, “ that the vacancy in the 
department has been filled.” 

“Ah ! my poor friend! ” exclaimed Xavier. 

An expression of pain, passed over Etienne’s 
countenance ; but making a brave effort at self- 
control, he said, 

“ I cannot help feeling the disappointment. 
Madame, I see now that I was rash in allowing 
myself to hope at all in the matter. Let me say 
to you, Madame, that I shall be greatly assisted in 


THE MARQUISE’S SOIREE. 1 89 

bearing this disappointment, by the remembrance 
of the kindness which this circumstance has per- 
mitted me to receive from you.” 

“ And what have I done for you ? nothing but 
make known your desire. I myself had strong 
hopes for you ; and I had really rejoiced in ad- 
vance at your success. I cannot remain satisfied 
without making an effort to obtain something for 
you. Do you not know of some other position, 
Monsieur, that might suit you ? ” 

“ No, Madame, I know of none.” 

“Yes, but perhaps I may think of something.” 

“ Oh ! how kind you are ! how I thank you ! ” 
exclaimed Xavier. “ These few words of yours 
have excited my hopes anew.” 

“ Don’t be too fast now,” said the Marquise, 
“especially after having been too slow.” 

“ Oh ! perhaps it was my fault, that he missed 
the appointment,” murmured Xavier sadly. 

“No, my dear child, it was not; the appoint- 
ment was made yesterday morning.” 

“ To assist your researches, Madame, I must 
tell you that fetienne is timid and mis-trustful of 
self, and that he is either unconscious of his 
talents, or, greatly undervalues them.” 

“ All this is in the order of true merit. And 
guess, Xavier, what I am going to exact of you, 
in attestation of your words of affection and 
devotedness ? ” 


190 RENEE’S MARRIAGE. 

The young man’s clear gaze was fixed a mo- 
ment on the face of the Marquise. 

“ I do not know what it is,” he answered, “ but 
I am ready to second any measure that may 
prove serviceable to my friend. What is it, 
Madame, that you wish ! ” 

“ I desire to — to be left alone with M. Mahouet 
so as to have a little private conversation with 
him, — an annoying request, I must confess, to 
make of you, Xavier.” 

Xavier arose laughing. 

“ A cruel request,” he answered, “ but one eas- 
ily complied with. I am going to take myself 
off, but I shall not go far, and when I am no 
longer a restraint upon you — ” 

“You are no restraint whatever; you might 
even be able to assist us with your good judg- 
ment ; but I, my child, in the matter I propose 
discussing with your friend, I would be a restraint 
upon you ; and indeed your position under the 
circumstances would be a painfully embarrassing 
one, did I not take the liberty of asking you to 
retire for a while.” 

Xavier directed his steps towards the door open- 
ing into the vestibule. 

“I am, at least free,” he said, “am I not, to 
select the road leading into my exile? I should 
prefer not having to walk through the drawing- 
room in reaching the entrance here, whence 


THE MARQUISE’S SOIREE. 191 

I await the word recalling me to your pres- 
ence.’* 

“ Do as you wish in that respect,” said Mme. de 
Valbret, “it makes no difference whatever.” 

Xavier now disappeared, followed by the wist- 
ful glances of his friend, who mystified like him- 
self, and feeling more and more disheartened, 
longed to call him back yet dared not. 

The young Viscount was too well acquainted 
with Mme. de Valbret not to feel considerably 
buoyed up as to fitienne’s prospects by the Mar- 
quise’s suggestion. She was not a woman to 
speak lightly or unadvisedly, and when striving 
to impart consolation, maladroitly to awaken new 
hopes that could only be blighted. She certainly 
had something in view, and Etienne, would not 
leave her presence with drooping spirits. But 
fitienne was so poor a judge when called upon 
to decide for himself ! He even mistrusted his 
talents when he perceived himself passed over by 
the world’s favor, so often bestowed upon others 
rather as the result of intrigue and sharpness than, 
the reward of merit. On the other hand, he exag- 
gerated his physical strength ; and great, invinci- 
ble courage was the prop sustaining his rather 
delicate constitution under the burden and strain 
of life’s duties. 

“ If Mme. de Valbret mentions any employ- 
ment exacting unintermitting labor, he will cer- 


192 


RENEE’S MARRIAGE. 


tainly accept,” said Xavier anxiously. “ There 
is consolation in the thought, that if his clients 
do not enrich him, they at least afford him a liv- 
ing. . . . But why should Mme. de Valbret send 
me out of the room ?” he continued. “ What 
can she fear from me ? This is indeed mysteri- 
ous.” 

Abandoned to these reflections he returned to 
the drawing-room, and having no desire to talk, 
he kept aloof from the animated groups around 
him, and remained standing alone against the 
wall, his eyes wandering listlessly over the scene, 
as often happens when one’s mind is preoccupied. 
Suddenly, they fell upon the spot where Mme. 
Vangaramenghen, Mme. de Grenaff and a few 
others were seated engaged in conversation. His 
thoughts were immediately wrested from Etienne, 
and a feeling of sadness again took possession of 
his heart. 

“ What a beautiful expression this young Ren£e 
has ! ” said he. “ What must not be the strength 
of that soul when its serenity is so soon reflected 
on the countenance, just bathed in bitter tears ! 
Alas ! poor young girl, guard your peace, guard 
your energy, for the tears I saw you shed, will 
not be the last to flow from your eyes ! ” 

He had no longer any desire to be presented to 
her by Alphonse. He was even pleased to 
catch a glimpse of his cousin’s blond head at the 


THE MARQUISE’S SOIREE. I93 

farther end of the drawing-room, amid a group of 
young men with whom he (Alphonse) had entered 
into conversation, and whom he was entertaining 
gaily, judging by the continuous laughter greeting 
all his words. 

“ He fears to remain too long near Mile. Van- 
garamenghen,” said Xavier, “ and he is right. It 
is much better to announce the marriage than to 
have it divined. He does not see me ; so much 
the better. I shall not budge from this spot.” 

Thoughtless project ! vain resolution ! Whilst 
Xavier, filled with anxiety for fitienne, and com- 
passion for Renee, thus let his thoughts wander 
at will from one to the other, an eye was fastened 
upon him, noting the sad expression so clearly 
visible in his countenance, and interpreting it 
thus : 

“ This poor M. de Bois Roughs is evidently 
7 very unhappy ! I must try to assuage the pangs 
of his martyrdom a little. Oh ! how I am going 
to catch him ! He is very sharp, I have no doubt, 
but I defy him to escape the net-work, I intend 
to weave around him. Mme. de Valbret must 
have invited him, as I did not know that he was 
to be here. Knowing the intimacy existing 
between aunt and the Bois Roughs family, how 
is it I failed to comprehend aunt’s allusions im- 
mediately? He is a most charming person, ‘St. 
Xavier,’ as my husband calls him ! Nor is Ren£e 


i 9 4 


RENEE’S MARRIAGE. 


less so. . . . Yes, they are admirably suited. 
What will aunt say when I tell her, that without 
one word of assistance, I have succeeded in pene- 
trating the mystery which she wished me to un- 
ravel ? . . . But what reason can they all have in 
keeping this coming marriage such a secret, not 
even allowing the poor groom elect to approach 
the object of his dreams, but forcing him to 
regard her from a distance ? Oh ! he may well 
sigh ! This is just like what one reads in romances. 
. . . M. de Bois Roughs?” 

Xavier, at the sound of his name, raised his 
head, and turning, saw Mme. de Broz beside him, 
looking so mischievous, that in spite of himself, 
he felt imbued with sentiments akin to her 
own. 

“ What are you doing here, all alone, like a 
plaintive shadow ? ” said she. 

“ In the first place, Madame, let me remark 
that so far from opening my lips in murmurs or 
plaints, I have not said one word.” 

“ But there is a silence which is very eloquent, 
there are looks which moan and supplicate. . . . 
Give me your arm, if you please. If I did not 
know that you have great reason for being absent- 
minded this evening, I should reproach you for 
not having thought of offering me your arm.” 

“You are right, Madame, for I have been cul- 
pably remiss on this point.” 


THE MARQUISE’S SOIREE. 


195 

Offering his arm which the young woman took, 
the two moved on a few steps, Mme. de Broz 
delighted, and Xavier acknowledging to himself 
that, under present circumstances, he could very 
well have dispensed with so flattering a prefer- 
ence. 

“ I have some revelations to disclose to you/’ 
said Mme. de Broz. “ I shall begin by telling 
you that I have recently made great progress in 
many things.” 

“All humanity should imitate you, or, at least, 
endeavor to do so, Madame.” 

“ Those who have not the same incentives and 
aids to progress as myself are excusable on 
this point. Do you know that I form one of 
the members of an embassy ? ” 

“ Certainly.” 

“Ah, indeed ! ” This is my first step, thought 
Mme. de Broz. She continued aloud, “ I have 
become as skilful in diplomacy as ever Cardinal 
Richelieu was.” 

“ Madame, I congratulate you on selecting 
Cardinal Richelieu as your model, rather than 
our contemporaries.” 

“ Ah ! what a conclusion you have drawn from 
my words ! I did not mean to speak ill of our 
statesmen.” 

“ That would not be politic.” 

“ Oh ! how astute you are ! But I think I sur- 


RENEE’S MARRIAGE. 


I 9 6 

pass you. Oh ! what a woman’s eye can penetrate! 

I never could imagine why our grammarians 
should have put lynx in the masculine 
gender.” 

“ Do not be too exacting of justice. There 
are so many words which grammarians make 
feminine, — gentleness, wisdom, etc.” 

Mme. de Broz laughed heartily. Xavier from 
time to time, looked towards the door, but in 
vain,— nothing as yet recalled him to the side of 
fitienne Le Mahouet. 

“ Second step in the path of progress,” con- 
tinued the young woman, “ I have become so 
discreet, that on discovering a secret, whilst do- 
ing my best for those it concerns, I never betray 
them.” 

“ Permit me to say, Madame, that this lauda- 
ble science seems to me a necessary outgrowth 
of diplomacy. The true diplomatist must be as 
impenetrable as he is clear-sighted.” 

“ Now, my third step in the path of progress — , 
a progress truly worthy of the name, is one which 
makes me a diplomatist unique ! Ability and 
cleverness ordinarily dry up the fountains of the 
heart ; but my diplomatic talents render me 
compassionate and desirous to serve others, 
consoling them, and alleviating the sufferings 
which the severity of circumstances may inflict 
upon them. . . . Why are you so inclined to di- 


THE MARQUISE’S SOIREE. I97 

rect your steps towards the right ? It is towards 
the left I wish you to go.” 

“ Willingly, Madame.” 

“Very willingly, I imagine. Come now, just 
a little courage. I must have a few moment’s 
talk with Mile. Vangaramenghen. Will you con- 
duct me to her ? ” 

“Yes, Madame.” 

“ He has not winced once under my words, nor 
betrayed the least emotion,” thought the young 
woman. “ He is more impenetrable than I sus- 
pected.” They directed their steps toward 
Ren£e, who remained silent and with downcast 
eyes, whilst her stepmother and Mme. de Gre- 
naff kept up a most animated conversation. The 
young girl was certainly greatly pre-occupied, for 
Mme. de Broz and Xavier stood before her ere 
she had noticed their approach. 

“ Ren£e,” said the former, “ I have been so 
tyrannical as to make M. de Bois Roughs bring 
me to you.” 

Recalled to herself, Renee raised her eyes to 
meet the young man’s look, which was one of 
gentleness and deep sympathy. She immediately 
recognized Xavier, as him whom she had seen on 
bended knee, his face reflecting the ardor of a 
soul inflamed with devotion, when desolate 
and almost heart-broken, she had gone to 
seek courage at the martyrs’ tomb. Over her 


igS 


RENEE’S MARRIAGE. 


face and Xavier’s passed one of those smiles by 
which two souls that know they are sisters salute 
each other ; then, the young girl courteously in- 
clined her head, not venturing to say aught to 
this stranger, and feeling that he had understood 
her. Mme. de Broz regarded each in turn. 

“ Pass me that chair, my dear Monsieur,” said 
she. “ As I believe that you wish to be a faith- 
ful cavalier to me, I invite you also to take a 
seat.” 

Mme. Vangaramenghen and Mme. de Grenaff, 
interrupted the course of their conversation. 
They listened to Mme. de Broz, they eyed Xavier 
curiously, they whispered to each other. Under 
their long golden lashes, the stepmother’s eyes 
cast forth glances of defiance; whilst those of the 
Baroness, on the contrary, gleamed like those 
lights which in the hour of shipwreck betoken 
peril. 

“ I told you there was something under this,” 
murmured Mme. de Grenaff so low that no one 
but Mme. Vangaramenghen could hear her. “ I 
knew very well that they were not looking at a 
portrait one whole hour. Rente’s manner and 
tone were changed after that when Alphonse re- 
turned to her. This young man’s face is familiar 
to me, and I feel sure that I am acquainted with 
him.” 

“ He is fine looking, indeed, he has the air 


THE MARQUISE’S SOIREE. 199 

of a prince,” was the charitable reply of her 
friend. 

“ I certainly know him,” repeated the Baro- 
ness, now greatly agitated. 

Suddenly, she nudged the elbow of Mme. 
Vangaramenghen, and drawing nearer to her, 
whispered, 

“ Ah ! I know. It is the young Viscount de 
Bois Roughs, my nephew’s first cousin.” 

“Viscount! ” replied the stepmother, “ He has 
a title then ? ” 

“ I will confer my title upon my nephew, as I 
have already told you, have I not ? I intend to 
adopt Alphonse.” 

“ No, I never heard you say so before.” 

“ But I assure you, I did tell you ; you may 
not have heard or understood me.” 

“You talk so much I can’t hear what he says 
to Ren£e, and I am anxious to catch his words.” 

Mme. de Grenaff, at this likewise essayed a 
slight movement forward. But vain attempt ! 
Mme. de Broz pleased at having played her part 
so well, and not wishing to push matters farther, 
now sustained the conversation herself, Rente’s 
and Xavier’s share in it being limited to the 
polite yet indifferent monosyllabic replies which 
they made to her words. This situation could 
not be prolonged, and Xavier would soon have 
put an end to it, had not courtesy forbidden his 


200 


RENEE’S MARRIAGE. 


interrupting Mme. de Broz’s narrations. At last, 
a moment’s respite permitted him to rise. 

“ I beg you to excuse my leaving you, Mad- 
ame,” said he, “ but Mme. de Valbret wished to 
see me this evening, and I fear she may be kept 
waiting.” 

Mme. de Grenaff crushed the border of her 
fan. . . . Mme. de Broz perceiving that the two 
young people had been prudent even to excess, 
replied to him in an undertone, 

“ So, Monsieur, you leave Rente’s presence 
without having said one word to her.” 

As this remark was made so as to be heard by 
Ren£e, Xavier could no longer intrench himself 
behind a complete silence. With a respectful 
inclination to her, he said, 

“ Mile. Vangaramenghen, will readily pardon 
me, Madame, I am sure, since your pleasant 
words have made up for my deficiency in the way 
of conversation, and she has been a gainer by the 
exchange.” 

“ And this is how you thank me ! ” exclaimed 
Mme. de Broz. “ It is shameful in you ! ” 

Laughing, Xavier with a respectful bow, took 
leave of the ladies, and hastened to the spot 
where he had been standing when Mme. de Broz 
accosted him. 

“ What can the Marquise be talking about to 
Alphonse, all this time ? ” he asked himself. A 


THE MARQUISE’S SOIREE. 201 

moment after, a hand touched him roughly, and 
turning he saw Alphonse. 

“ Oh ! it is you, is it ? ” said Xavier. 

The person addressed made no reply, but pur- 
ple in the face, stood looking at Xavier with an 
air of consternation. 

“What is the matter? what has happened to 
you ? ” continued Xavier. 

“ How dare you ask me ? Was there ever such 
a betrayal of confidence? Only to think that 
after all I told you ! ” 

“ What has taken possession of you ? ” replied 
Xavier quietly. “I have spoken to no one of 
your expected marriage.” 

“ My marriage ! ah ! this is too much ! My 
marriage, indeed! Aunt has just warned me of 
you, and your recent behavior. She has had 
some talk with the little lady who accompanied 
you, and who seemed to be in your confidence.” 

“ What is that ? ” 

“Oh ! yes, I know it, I saw it, I — ” 

“ But what is it you saw ? Please do tell me.” 

“Anybody but myself would challenge you for 
this.” 

“You have certainly gone crazy. I beg you 
to explain yourself.” 

“You too are a suitor for the hand of Mile. 
Vangaramenghen ! And her choice between us, 
forsooth, would soon be made : you are rich.” 


202 


RENEE’S MARRIAGE. 


“ I seek the hand of Mile. Vangaramenghen ! 
I!” 

And at this, Xavier was seized with a fit of 
laughter so impulsive, so irresistible, that all the 
assertions, all the explanations which he could 
have made were of slight account in comparison. 
Every vestige of a doubt as to the sincerity of 
his words and his surprise must needs have been 
removed by it. Recovering himself, for a mo- 
ment, he wiped his eyes, but was again over- 
come by laughter. Alphonse’s fury suddenly 
disappeared before it even as a breath of wind. 

“ This is stupid indeed ; ” he murmured. “ To 
have given me such a scare ! ” 

“ Oh,” said Xavier, when he was able to speak, 
“ do re-assure yourself, my dear fellow. I seek 
the hand of no one. Ah ! I see now, the origin 
of all this — Mme. de Broz is at the bottom of it. 
I understand now all the mysterious allusions in 
her conversation, and why she conducted me to 
Mile. Ren£e. . . . Her plan certainly succeeded 
as far as you are concerned.” 

“ What imagination can do ! ” 

Then, in a grave tone he continued, 

“ Alphonse, I must tell you that I am very 
much offended, at your giving credit, even for an 
instant, to so injurious a suspicion against me. 
My part, I trust, will always be an honorable 

t ’ > 

one ! 


THE MARQUISE’S SOIREE. 203 

“ O ! forgive me, my dear, good friend re- 
plied Alphonse, covered with confusion. “ In 
the first moment of . . . just think if I were to 
miss this marriage ! One does not find so de- 
sirable a match twice in a lifetime.” 

“Alas! ” sighed Xavier, “that this should be 
the thought that grieves him ! You need have 
no fear of me,” he continued aloud. “Give me 
your hand, and please present my compliments 
to your aunt. I shall get after Mme. de Broz for 
this.” 

“ Xavier, I really have great confidence in you.” 

“Yes, you have just given me a striking proof 
of it.” 

“ Were you offended.” 

“ Very much ; but I forgive you.” 

“ I intend sitting here by you, it will be time 
enough after a while to re-assure my aunt. I 
should have perferred returning to these ladies; 
but Mile. Ren£e says not a word to me, and 
whilst her stepmother wishes me to talk, my 
aunt looks at me with the eyes of a vulture — ” 

“ Why is this ? ” 

“ Because I wanted to relate” — 

One of those lively, puerile anecdotes of which 
Alphonse always had a full stock which he 
delighted to retail, now convinced Xavier that his 
cousin’s lost equanimity was restored. The young 
Viscount listened patiently, but without being 


204 


RENEE’S MARRIAGE. 


over scrupulous as to attention; and from time 
to time, looking at his watch, he would murmur, 
“ How long they do talk !” At last, he said, 
“ Alphonse, let us go nearer the door. I wish to 
be in readiness to enter at the first signal.” 

Alphonse made no reply but quietly followed 
him. 

Had they turned their glances in the direction 
of the groups from which they had withdrawn, 
both of them would have been moved, but in a 
very different manner. 

* * * * * 

The Marquise began thus the mysterious dia- 
logue which she had expressed a desire to have 
with M. Le Mahouet. 

“ I am not sure that we need be so grieved at 
our disappointment. The situation you applied 
for, Monsieur, is a most laborious one.” 
fitienne smiled faintly at these words. 

“ Hard work does not frighten me much, 
Madame,” said he, “ provided I am competent to 
respond faithfully to the confidence reposed in 
me by those under whom I work.” 

“ I must tell you, that every day without in- 
termission, and for many hours of each day, you 
would have been kept away from your home. 
And, if I rightly understood Xavier, one dear 
object of your affection would suffer from your 
continual absence.” 


THE MARQUISE’S SOIREE. 


205 


“Yes, alas!” said the young man sighing, 
“ you are right, Madame. It is this thought 
which has so long combated my intention of 
seeking some fixed position. My profession (I 
am a lawyer) does allow me to find a few mo- 
ments to bestow upon my old mother. I cannot 
but see the isolation to which she will be con- 
demned when I am forced to be away from our 
home nearly the whole day ; and this is why I 
have struggled as long as I could against the sad 
necessity of seeking a position requiring it. 
But the time seemed to have come when I must 
forego my inclinations, and yield to what I 
deemed a duty.” 

These last words were uttered in a tone so low 
and so sad, that in their proud reserve, they re- 
vealed the extremity before which the affection 
of two courageous hearts had succumbed. 

“ But,” inquired the Marquise, “ have you not 
sisters ? ” 

“ I have two sisters, Madame, but they are still 
too young to be taken away from the convent, 
without compromising their education.” 

“ Oh ! that would be a great pity, and it must 
not be dreamed of. Yet being old myself and 
having suffered much, I am filled with sympathy 
for this poor old mother still with you, and I should 
love to arrange all things that you could enjoy at 
the same time, the pecuniary advantages which 


20 6 


RENEE’S MARRIAGE. 


you seek, and those consolations of affection, 
that by a mutual sentiment of devotion both you 
and she had determined to sacrifice, if 
necessary.” 

“ Madame,” exclaimed Etienne, “ if aided by 
your powerful influence, such a project could be 
realized, you would indeed become the guardian 
angel of my poor grandmother’s old age.” 

‘'Were it only to merit so beautiful a title, I 
should attempt it, Monsieur. But to succeed 
my plan exacts your hearty co-operation.” 

“ Madame, can you doubt it? ” 

“ Your filial love and devotion ? Oh ! no. But 
holding at my disposal what I have just referred 
to, and knowing you worthy of accepting it, I 
still hesitate to make the offer.” 

“Madame,” said Etienne anxiously, yet not 
daring to ask the Marquise for an explanation of 
her words, “ you have only to name the offer, for 
me to meet it.” 

“No, I only hope that you will accept it. I do 
not feel sure that you will.” 

And as the young man regarded her with aston- 
ishment, 

“You know,” she continued, “that there are 
recesses in the soul, refuges for self ever closed 
to a stranger ; and before proceeding a step far- 
ther in the question which we are now consider- 
ing, I must be authorized to do so.” 


THE MARQUISE’S SOIREE. 2QJ 

“ There are also kindnesses to which one accords 
rights that would be refused to other senti- 
ments,” replied Etienne with a dignity that de- 
lighted the Marquise. “ I am entirely at your 
service, Madame.” 

“Well, it seems to me that instead of wearing 
yourself out in incessant toil, condemning your- 
self to continual suffering and anxiety, you could 
enlarge your circle, and obtain of the purest affec- 
tions, not only the aid which you require, but 
even an increase of happiness.” 

“ I am not sure that I understand you,” mur- 
mured Etienne. 

“ Oh, yes, you understand me perfectly. But 
let me develop my suggestion a little. What 
joy would it not be for Mme. de Lagareue to 
have the constant society of a young woman, 
pretty and gentle, who would take the place of 
that dear daughter, too soon called hence by 
death ! what joy for her to behold that last crown 
of maternity named grandchildren, to bless these 
new scions of herself ! what joy for her to know 
ere descending to the grave that your future 
was secure ! ” 

fitienne shook his head. 

“ All that you now say to me, Madame, I have 
often repeated to myself ; yet I have no desire to 
marry.” 

“ Permit me to tell you that you are wrong. 


208 


RENEE’S MARRIAGE. 


With your excellent habits, your honorable 
character, your refinement, you would make a 
good woman happy, and be happy yourself in 
marrying.” 

Etienne’s face was clouded as he replied, “ No, 
I have no desire to marry. Nevertheless, 
Madame, I thank you for your kindness.” 

“ Do not use that word kindness any longer, I 
beg of you. It suited well enough when I en- 
deavored to do my best in seconding the efforts 
of M. de Bois Rouges in your behalf. Now, that 
I have seen you and known you, say ‘ your affec- 
tion ’ instead of ‘ your kindness,’ — you will thus 
favor me by doing so.” 

“ Ah ! Madame ! ” 

“ Why are you so astonished ? It is your good 
that I desire.” 

Etienne was deeply touched. This woman 
who had received him at her house this evening 
for the first time was now speaking to him as to 
a friend ; and the conversation which he had 
anticipated as hedged in with all the formality of 
a most rigid etiquette, had been transformed into 
a confidential talk, and with so much delicacy, so 
much regard for his feelings, that whilst rapidly 
drawn to questions altogether different from 
those he had come hither to discuss, he could 
neither complain of it, nor intrench himself 
behind an excessive reserve. 


THE MARQUISE’S SOIREE. 20g 

So it is a settled thing then,” continued Mem. 
de Valbret, “ that you will never marry.” 

“ It is probable, Madame, that I shall not.” 

“ Ah ! it is not sure ? ” 

“ I should have said that I am sure I shall 
not.” 

“ No, our first words always give the most cor- 
rect impression of our thoughts. From what 
has escaped you, I draw one evident conclusion — 
that it is not marriage itself to which you are 
opposed.” 

“ Madame” — 

“ Oh ! you must now let me make use of, or 
even abuse the privilege I asked and which you 
granted.” 

“ Madame,” said fitienne, “ the Marquise de 
Valbret has given proofs so multiplied of her 
kind heart and consideration for others, that I 
have no fears whatever in becoming the object of 
her favorable attentions.” 

“ I feel confident that my plans will meet with 
your warmest approval. My child — you will 
allow me to call you thus, will you not?” 

fitienne inclined his head, and passed his hand 
over his forehead. 

“ My child, the thought of marriage is not dis- 
pleasing to you, and yet you will never marry, 
you say. How is this?” 

“ I will never sell my heart.” 


210 


RENEE’S MARRIAGE. 


“ And you fear that you may never be able 
to offer it according to your inclinations, because 
adversity has visited your family, and made the 
material side of your existence such as you would 
shrink from asking a young girl of your own 
rank to share ? ” 

There was no reply. 

“Yet an ideal must some time have passed 
before your eyes.” 

Etienne started and suddenly raised his head. 

“What do you mean, Madame?” he ex- 
claimed ? 

“ Listen to me. You are free, at present, per- 
fectly free, and you can remain so if you wish. 
But if it suits you suddenly to exchange this 
liberty for a solemn word, that word would be 
welcome I can assure you. Give me your arm, 
for I want you to see the person of whom I 
speak.” 

Etienne almost staggered as he arose. Every- 
thing seemed so like a dream. Opening the draw- 
ing-room door, the Marquise in a perfectly calm, 
self-possessed manner, walked towards Ren£e, 
before whom she suddenly stopped and said, 

“ Here is a gentleman with whom you are ac- 
quainted. Have you not some inquiries to make 
of M. Le Mahouet ? ” 

“ I should be delighted to hear from C£cile,” 
murmured the young girl in a trembling voice. 


THE MARQUISE’S SOIREE. 21 1 

“ She is very well, Mademoiselle,” answered 
fitienne, in a manner still more confused than 
her own. 

The Marquise continued, — 

“ You are very fond of Mile. Le Mahouet, 
are you not, Rende ? You love her as a sister? ” 
“ Indeed I do, Madame.” 

fitienne’s head swam ; it seemed to him as if the 
very walls were trembling. 

“ To-morrow,” continued Mme. de Valbret, “ I 
wish to have a talk with your father, Renee, and 
I must ask M. Le Mahouet to let me have his arm 
on that occasion. Will you be sure to charge 
yourself with my little message, and request M. 
Vangaramenghen to accord us this interview?” 

Renee inclined her head, and a timid yes is- 
sued from her lips like a faint breath. 

“To-morrow, then,” said the Marquise smiling, 
as she passed on, taking Etienne with her. 

She heard him murmur, 

“ All this is surely a dream.” 

“ A dream, believe me,” said the Marquise, 
“ from which you will not awaken. I feel inter- 
ested in Rente’s happiness.” 

* * * * 

Just at this moment, Xavier again interrupted 
one of his cousin’s anecdotes by these words, 

“ Etienne is certainly staying a very long time 
with Mme. de Valbret.” 


212 


RENEE'S MARRIAGE. 


“ Oh ! there he is ! ” exclaimed Alphonse in 
amazement. 

Xavier turned, and saw the Marquise, escorted 
by Etienne, coming towards them. 

“ He seems quite self-possessed, — that friend of 
yours," said Alphonse. 

Xavier’s countenance betrayed so much sur- 
prise that Alphonse continued, 

“ It is doubtless your protection that embold- 
ens him. You did not expect so favorable a 
termination as appears evident just now, my 
good fellow." 

Xavier advanced eagerly towards Mme. de 
Valbret. Alphonse, on the contrary, drew back. 
Most decidedly, he wished to keep aloof from 
Etienne. 

“ We were looking for you, Xavier," said the 
Marquise. “ M. Le Mahouet will tell you that 
both he and I are much pleased. I leave him 
now to you, for he seems overcome. To-morrow 
my child," she continued, extending her hand to 
Etienne. 

The latter seized this extended hand and 
pressed it to his lips. Xavier thought he heard 
a stifled sigh mingled with the kiss. 

“ Oh ! thank God ! " murmured the young 
Viscount. 

“ I resign your friend to you," repeated the 
Marquise ; “ he will tell you all." 


THE MARQUISE’S SOIREE. 213 

The two young men retired apart, Alphonse 
from a distance seeing them disappear. 

He now decided to return to the Mmes. Van- 
garamenghen, thinking it was nearly time for 
them to take leave, and longing to hear from 
Renee’s lips the gentle good-bye which would 
soon be followed by words of deeper, tenderer 
import. 

“ Ah ! there you are at last ! ” said the Baro- 
ness, fixing upon her nephew a look of despair. 

“ Aunt,” whispered Alphonse, “ It is not so — 
my cousin.” 

“ Pshaw! he is out of the question. I fear him 
no longer ; but there is another dread rival.” 

Then bending forward she said to the young 
girl, 

“ Does our dear Renee still suffer from the 
headache ? ” 

“Yes, Madame,” answered the latter, to 
whom the state of agitation in which she had 
been kept the whole evening, had indeed brought 
this succor. “ As soon as my father comes this 
way I shall ask him to let us retire.” 

“Dear child! You are suffering. Let Al- 
phonse go hunt your father up.” 

“ No, Madame, I thank you. I prefer simply 
to wait until he comes.” 

The Baroness bit her lips. In a moment or two, 
she said a few words to Mme. Vangaramenghen. 


214 


RENEE’S MARRIAGE. 


“ I tell you I do not know,” answered the 
stepmother in .the same tone as the query. 
“ Ask your nephew if he can inform you ? ” 

“ Alphonse, who is that young man whose arm 
Mme. de Valbret had just now ? ” 

“ A poor wretch of a lawyer.” 

“ What is his name? ” 

“ M. Le Mahouet.” 

“ Le Mahouet ? ” she murmured. “ I wonder 
if he is one of the Le Mahouets connected with 
the Lagareuc family ? ” 

“ How do I know?” answered Alphonse, who 
began to share his aunt’s anxiety. “ I know that 
he works for a living, that’s all I know about him.” 

Mme. de Grenaff again whispered some words 
to Mme. Vangaramenghen, whose only answer 
was a slight shrug of the shoulders. 

Just at this momnent the anxiety of the Baro- 
ness was intensified by an incident that came 
under her observation. The banker withdrew 
from the group with whom he had been engaged 
in conversation and came towards his wife. But 
ere doing so (how could this escape Mme. de 
Grenaff’s eyes ?) he said a few words, evidently 
expressive of his entire satisfaction, and cour- 
teously bore the tips of the Marquise de Valbret’s 
fingers to his lips. 

“ It is late,” said he, in a brief tone, to Mme. 
Vangaramenghen. 


THE MARQUISE’S SOIREE. 


215 

“ It is hardly two o’clock,” she answered, look- 
ing at Mme. de Grenaff. 

“ Monsieur,” said Alphonse eagerly, “ I should 
like very much to have the honor of another 
little talk with you, for a few moments.” 

“ I regret not to be able to accord you these 
few moments, Monsieur ; it is late, and I wish 
to retire.” 

Renee arose. 

“ Really, one might suppose the room was on 
fire,” said Mme. Vangaramenghen. “Adrian, do 
give me time to whisper a word to you.” 

Advancing a step or two, she leaned over 
towards her husband and said something to him. 
His answer was a shake of the head. She re- 
sponded by a gesture of impatience and, taking 
hold of his arm, spoke to him again. The same 
negative sign was renewed, accompanied by a few 
words, doubtless in self-justification, which im- 
mediately ended the debate. Mme. Vangaramen- 
ghen’s hand let go his arm, and the banker very 
politely saluted Mme. de Grenaff, saying to her, 

“ I shall do myself the honor of coming to see 
you, Madame.” 

Merely replying to Alphonse’s salutation, he 
turned to go, followed by his daughter and his 
wife, the Baroness catching on to the latter as 
one seizes a branch when an abyss opens before 
him. 


21 6 


RENEE’S MARRIAGE. 


“Oh! I am overcome. ... It will kill Al- 
phonse.” 

“What do you want me to do in the matter?” 

“ It is incomprehensible. What can be the 
cause of so sudden a change?” 

“ Not being a diviner I can’t tell you.” 

“ A child like Alphonse ! who has so many 
qualifications ! whose only fault is in being too 
good ! ” 

“You are preaching to one who agrees with 
you, my dear ; but you see, I have no voice in the 
question.” 

“ Did he tell you nothing, nothing at all ? ” 

An ironical smile passed over the young 
woman’s face. She repressed it and assumed an 
air of gentle embarrassment. 

“ My dear friend, pray tell me what he said,” 
continued the Baroness, “ we are at least en- 
titled 4 to know the objection.’ ” 

“ What good would this do you ? It would 
only pain and annoy you, perhaps.” 

“Yes, yes, tell me everything.” 

“ We are powerless to remedy the matter.” 

“ Oh ! I beg of you ! ” 

They had now reached the dressing-room, and 
were putting on their wraps. Alphonse, filled 
with consternation, stood waiting for his aunt at 
the door. This dialogue must come to an 
end. 


THE MARQUISE’S SOIREE. 21 ? 

“Well,” said Mme. Vangaramenghen “since 
you insist upon it — ” 

“Yes, I positively insist.” 

“ He said to me (and I had no reply to make, 
not knowing to what in especial he referred), “ ‘ I 
shall not force my daughter to marry a man 
so selfish and ill-bred. I think I have found a 
better match for her ! ’ Good-bye, my dear.” 

And leaving her friend in possession of this 
desirable (?) piece of information, Mme. Vangara- 
menghen darted off to rejoin her husband and 
Renee, who were already descending the stair- 
case. 

The Baroness stood a moment as if transfixed 
to the spot by Mme. Vangaramenghen’s parting 
words. She felt crushed, annihilated. But this 
was of short duration, and had already given 
place to the surgings of a restrained fury when 
she took Alphonse’s arm. 

“ Come,” said she in a tone which was far 
from gracious. 

When at last the two were rolling away in the 
hack which was to take them home, and there 
was no one but Alphonse to hear her words, the 
storm of wrath burst forth. 

“You have only yourself to thank for this,” 
said she. “ How often did I not tell you that in 
this house you should be most prudent, decorous, 
circumspect — ” 


218 


RENEE’S MARRIAGE. 


“ What have I done ! ” exclaimed the unhappy 
Alphonse, clasping his hands. “ I have said 
scarcely four words. I never was so serious 
in my life ! ” 

“ Simpleton ! ” 

In this lugubrious conversation, Mme. de 
Grenaff forgot that she had been extolling her 
nephew as a most sensible person. 

“Aunt,” groaned the accused, “ I — ” 

“ Hush. M. Vangaramenghen had never seen 
you. He was delighted at thoughts of the 
marriage, and it stands to reason that he would 
not have changed his mind in the course of a few 
hours after seeing you, if you had not revealed 
to him some of your charming qualities.” 

Vainly did the young man run over in his 
mind all the incidents of this festive occasion, of 
too recent an occurrence indeed for anything to 
have escaped his memory. 

“I have done nothing,” he repeated, “ I have 
done nothing amiss whatever. It was expressly in 
obedience to your wishes that I kept at a dis- 
tance. Oh! to lose such a marriage! such a 
bride, and such a fortune ! ” 

This last plaint was accompanied by a coun- 
terpart so perfect that one could readily believe 
in the good dispositions recently manifested by 
the Baroness, indicative of the spirit of union in 
a family. 


THE MARQUISE’S SOIREE. 219 

“ Oh ! ” said she bitterly, “ when I noticed that 
prolonged private interview, and then saw this 
young man make his appearance — ” 

“ But, aunt, I tell you that this part of it is false. 
Xavier never tells an untruth.” 

“ Pshaw ! I don’t mean Xavier, he is in no way 
concerned; I mean this M. Le Mahouet.” 

“ He ! ” exclaimed Alphonse, in a tone of con- 
tempt, “ he ! impossible, aunt, he is poor.” 

“ Are you rich ? ” 

“ A man who seeks a clerkship ! ” 

“ He certainly does better than you who are 
content to be a drone.” 

“ Aunt ! ” 

‘‘To lose such a match ! Now you may try to 
get a wife without any assistance from me ! ” 

“ But see here,” said Alphonse, exasperated at 
last, “ how do you know that you see straight 
now, since just a few hours ago you saw cross- 
ways ? ” 

“ How amiable my nephew is ! ” replied the 
Baroness, in a tone of irony far more expressive 
of her irritation than any reproaches she had 
hitherto uttered. 

“ Who knows,'” continued Alphonse pushed 
to extremities, '* but that you were in some way 
or other the cause of the young girl’s refusing 
me?” 

“ Ah, this is too much ! ” screamed the aunt en- 


220 


RENEE’S MARRIAGE. 


raged beyond control. “If it were not night I 
should make you get out of this hack ! ” 

“ Oh ! ” sighed out the unhappy young man, 
with an effort to overcome himself, “ forgive me, 
aunt, I hardly know what I say.” 

“ Yes, yes,” replied the Baroness'. “ Alas, my 
poor child, we are very unfortunate.” 

The plural pronoun here entered decidedly 
into Mme. de Grenaff’s vocabulary. Did Alphonse 
understand it simply as an expression of sympa, 
thy for himself? Perhaps so. At any rate, he 
grew more calm, and so did the Baroness. The 
dialogue was now continued in a more peaceful 
manner. 

“ You really believe that it is this M. Le 
Mahouet who has supplanted me ?” 

“Yes, I am sure of it. I saw Ren£e smile 
when Mme. de Valbret conducted him to her, 
whilst her manner to you was freezing.” 

“ Then why are you angry at me.” 

“ Because you must have done something 
amiss, which is the reason of the preference 
given this stranger over you.” 

“ But with what do they reproach me? ” 

“ With being selfish and ill-bred. It is this 
which made me say to you — ” 

The Baroness stopped suddenly. A marked 
rallendtando followed by a state of complete immo- 
bility proved that they had reached the door 


THE MARQUISE’S SOIREE. 221 

whence she and Alphonse had gone out so joy- 
ously just a few hours before. 

“ Here we are,” said she. “ Get out and ring 
the bell. I take cold very easily, and I am 
afraid to stand waiting for the door to be 
opened.” Alphonse obeyed, and, when all was 
in readiness for her to descend, he saw his aunt, 
enveloped tightly in her wraps, dart out of the 
hack like a streak of lightning, and into the house. 

“ I expect you to-morrow at noon,” she cried 
out to him in breathless haste as she flew past. 
He made no reply, but returning to the hack, 
and giving the driver his address, got in and 
slammed the door. With arms crossed and head 
bent, he sat musing, scarce knowing whether to 
indulge a last hope, tears or anger. All the 
realities just within his grasp, all the fancies he 
had been caressing the last few days, ruthlessly 
swept away before his eyes ! Oh ! it was terrible ! 
Amidst this confusion two words of fearful im- 
port were ringing in his ears, “ selfish, ill-bred ! ” 

“ It is incredible, upon my word it is,” said he 
to himself. “ Ill-bred ! I, who am considered one 
of the most elegant young men of my province ! 
Selfish indeed ! I should like to know in what 
way? I ate just what she set before me with- 
out the least sign of complaint or dissatisfaction. 
. . . I am almost frozen now from waiting on her. 
I too was warm in the hack, as well as herself.” 


222 


RENEE’S MARRIAGE. 


In spite of himself, his thoughts would inces- 
santly travel back and forth between the moment 
of his appearance at his aunt’s, and this which 
now saw him so desolate. The more he scanned 
his memory, the stronger the verdict of inno- 
cence such examination afforded him. At last, 
this most anxious thought, overleaped the 
limitations of time, apparently so just, within 
which it had been restrained. “ Selfish and ill- 
bred ! ” It is a singular thing indeed that these 
words were truly applicable to him in connection 
with a certain incident of the day ! And also 
strange that the person who had supplanted him 
should be this M. Le Mahouet! . . . But, 
pshaw ! how absurd ! This act in itself was not 
of sufficient importance to lead to such results. 
Moreover, how could the Marquise have heard 
it ? for it was not to be supposed that the young 
man, a stranger introduced to her by a friend, 
told her. To have done so would certainly have 
been prejudicial to himself. No confidence, no 
recompense especially, follows a revelation in 
which one sings his own praises to the discredit 
of another. Evidently, the little episode of the 
omnibus had no connection with the grand sub- 
ject under consideration. Yet, on the other 
hand, by what prodigy of audacity and cunning 
had this poverty-stricken lawyer succeeded in 
causing the obscure employment which he 


THE MARQUISE’S SOIREE. 223 

desired to transform itself into an opulent mag- 
nificent marriage ? All was dark, mysterious ! 
Suddenly an idea seized Alphonse, a terrible, 
suffocating idea ! Away with it ! he thought. 
A man must certainly be a fool to dwell upon 
it an instant. And yet it took complete pos- 
session of his mind, by degrees assuming startling 
distinctness of detail, and increasing in probabil- 
ity. . . That tall, spare figure, that white hair, 
yes, even the very voice — all were identical. 
Oh ! the mortification, the chagrin would nearly 
kill him should such a suspicion prove correct ! 
But why this costume, and why riding in an om- 
nibus?. . .Impossible! impossible! impossible! 

But the phantom which had thus risen up 
before Alphonse heeded not this word of dis- 
missal. It remained, becoming every moment 
more and more distinct. It descended from 
the hack with him, it ascended to his chamber, 
and it hung like a nightmare over the bed on 
which the bewildered young man vainly endeav- 
ored to snatch a few moments’ sleep. He com- 
bated this obsession a long time, until finally, 
worn out arguing with self, he made the follow- 
ing resolution, the best thing assuredly that he 
could have done : 

“ As soon as possible to-morrow, I will go to 
see Xavier.” 


CHAPTER VIII. 


THE NEXT DAY. 

How shall one describe the morrow, that arose 
upon this noble, impoverished family of fitienne 
Le Mahouet ? Shall I speak of it as a ray of 
hope, the aurora of happiness P All terms and 
comparisons were inadequate to our purpose. 
There are joys which can be imagined, which 
can be felt, but never expressed in words. 

Day was dawning in the east. The old 
mother still slept, thus obtaining a few hours’ 
respite from suffering. Her hands remained 
clasped, just as they were when she had fallen 
asleep praying for her son, with whose name she 
now mingled that of the Marquise de Valbret. 

Many times had her aged lips repeated, 
“ Inspire him, O my God ! Do Thou fill this 
powerful woman with sympathy for him ! May 
his countenance reflect in her eyes the virtues 
that adorn his character.” 

At intervals, the anguish of fear was mingled 
with her supplications. What reason had she to 
hope that Etienne would receive the appoint- 
ment? Had not Xavier de Bois Roughs pre- 


THE NEXT DAY. 


225 


sumed too much on the Marquise’s kindness and 
friendship for himself? And even suppose she 
did warmly espouse Etienne’s cause, would this 
ensure success? Alas! the realization of their 
hopes, which at first she had regarded as certain, 
now began to appear very doubtful when she 
pondered the matter and took into consideration 
all the attendant circumstances. And then back 
of this question rose up others so painful ! . . . 
But again hope whispered in her ear, and she 
thought of “the birds of the air that neither sow 
nor reap, the lilies of the field arrayed in their 
spotless garments, and the heavenly Father 
who hath charge over all.” 

“Confidence, my poor heart, confidence;” 
murmured the invalid. “ O my God, pardon 
me my weakness ; Thou knowest well that the 
mother’s heart is ofttimes very weak.” 

Uttering her “ Fiat,” she closed her eyes. 

When she opened them again the pallid light 
of an autumn morn warned her that it was time 
for all to rise. Being able to move her hands, 
she slightly raised the curtain around her bed 
and called gently : 

“ Are you here, Anne Marie?” 

Immediately, the curtain was raised all the 
way, and Etienne fell on his knees beside this bed 
of suffering, whence so many prayers and acts of 
immolation had ascended to heaven in his behalf 


226 


RENEE’S MARRIAGE. 


“ Mother! ” he exclaimed, “ my dear mother !” 
unable at first to say another word. The invalid 
looked at him as if startled, and was puzzled to 
comprehend his meaning. 

“ Render thanks to God,” he continued. 

“ Render thanks to God, for what, my dear 
child, for what ?” 

She felt indeed that this was no question 
of material success, that had moistened Etienne’s 
eyes, and illumined his countenance with the 
light of joy. 

Clasping her hands in his own, the young 
man kissed them. 

“ Mother,” said he, “ in a very little while, I will 
not be kneeling here at your bedside alone. 
That dear Ren£e whom your tenderness, 
ever fearful for the happiness of your children, 
sought to banish from their memory, is going to 
be your daughter.” 

“ Ah ! what do I hear ? ” exclaimed the invalid. 
“ Etienne ! my child ! which of us is going 
crazy? ” 

“ My beloved mother, what I tell you is no illu- 
sion, but a reality. Renee Vangaramenghen is to 
be my wife. Give me your blessing. A new life 
is opening for me and for you also.” 

“O my son ! why should I be astonished that 
the hour of recompense is come for you?” said 
the invalid, folding him in her motherly embrace ; 


THE NEXT DAY. 227 

— one of those silent embraces, fraught with the 
meaning of many words. 

“ How was this miracle wrought ? ” she said, at 
last. 

“I really do not know. Just as we ascend, 
step by step, to the door of a palace, so did the 
Marquise de Valbret lead me by degrees to the 
consummation of which I have just told you, — a 
consummation expressed in these (to me) strange 
and unexpected words : ‘ I wish Renee to be 
happy ; receive her hand.’ ” 

The aged mother wept, and the hand clasping 
fetienne’s trembled convulsively. 

“ Calm yourself, mother,” said the young man, 
almost as much affected as herself ; “ you who 
have been so courageous in adversity and suffering 
should know how to be equally strong in the 
presence of happiness.” 

“ O, my dear child, how just, how merciful is 
the good God ! ” 

fitienne gently wiped from her furrowed cheeks 
the tears that bedewed them — the first tears of 
joy he had ever seen her shed, and seating himself 
near her bed he related in detail his visit to Mme. 
de Valbret, — a narration frequently interrupted by 
the exclamations of the invalid. When he had 
finished, she said in a voice broken by emotion : 

“ I must go to see her, I must see her! Since 
my poor paralyzed feet cannot take me to her, I 


228 


RENEE’S MARRIAGE. 


will have myself carried to her door, where she 
will find me as she passes out. I must bless 
her, I must — ” 

“ You need not be taken there, mother. She 
herself is coming to-day to see us. She puts the 
finishing touch to her work by introducing me to 
M. Vangaramenghen.” 

“ Ah ! how much it pains me to think that I 
cannot rise to welcome her.” 

They remained thus a long time, giving vent 
to the joy that filled their hearts. The next few 
hours saw this humble abode the scene of earnest 
efforts to transform it into a reception room for 
the holy woman to whom its inmates felt indebted 
for the great and unexpected happiness which 
God had sent them.. From time to time, the 
invalid would say aloud : 

“ The Marquise will soon be here, I feel it. 
Oh ! if we now had some of the flowers that 
filled our gardens at Hermeus! ” 

Then again she would exclaim, 

“ Renee Vangaramenghen to be my daughter ! 
It is too much joy, too much ! ” 

And thus dwelling, now upon the dear subject 
so near her heart, and now upon the material 
cares demanding her attention, the aged mother 
saw the moments pass. At last, all was in readi- 
ness to receive the Marquise ; and Mme. de La- 
gareuc, wearing a silk robe, the last remnant of 


THE NEXT DAY. 


229 


ancient splendor, and having around her neck an 
escutcheoned cross, the legacy of six generations, 
was extended in the invalid’s chair, awaiting the 
arrival of the distinguished visitor, who came to 
salute her in the name of happiness. Poverty 
had hampered these material preparations, but 
the inspirations of the heart were impressed upon 
them. The round table covered with an Alge- 
rian veil, embroidered in gold, was set near the 
invalid. Before the book-shelf one saw a little 
screen on which was the figure of a young man, 
and a very young woman leaning against him as 
if seeking protection and support. Whilst the 
father and the mother of the orphans doubtless 
smiled on this scene from their home in heaven, 
was it not fitting that they be represented as 
participating in it on earth ? Close by were the 
crucifix, and the statue of Our Lady, both of 
which had many times this morning been covered 
with kisses, even as in the days of trial, when 
aid and strength were too frequently implored 
from on high. Renee’s medallion was hung 
around Our Lady’s statue, the same tenderness 
which had formerly sought to conceal her from 
others now joyfully assigning her the place of 
honor. 

“ I will tell the Marquise that a portion of her 
heart has preceded her here,” said Mme. Laga- 


reuc. 


230 RENEE’S MARRIAGE. 

It was almost noon, and the distinguished visi- 
tors so eagerly expected might appear at any 
moment. From time to time, Etienne would 
lean out of the only window that looked on the 
street, striving to apprise himself of her ap- 
proach. 

At last he said, “ Here is the Marquise ! ” 

And indeed, an equipage with grand armo- 
rial bearings stopped before the door, and the 
Marquise richly dressed as became a lady of her 
station descended from it. Etienne hastened to 
meet her and, leaning upon his arm, she walked 
up the high stairway. He begged her to excuse 
the steep ascent which she was obliged to make 
ere reaching their apartments. Her only re- 
sponse was a smile. 

“ How can I tell you, Madame,” he said, 
“ with what eagerness my mother has longed for 
this moment that is to make her acquainted 
with her to whom we owe so much ! ” 

Again a smile flitted around Mme. de Valbret’s 
lips. 

The rustling of her silk dress as well as 
Etienne’s steps announced their approach. They 
entered the room. 

“ Madame ! ” exclaimed the invalid, extending 
her obedient hands, the only limbs she could 
control. 

The Marquise stopped and looked at her. 


THE NEXT DAY. 


231 


The invalid uttered a cry of joy. 

“ You ! Oh ! is it you ! ” 

She opened her arms and Mme. de Valbret was 
pressed to her heart. 

“Yes, it is I, I who so lately said to you, 
Providence watches over all and guides the course 
of events.’’ 

The invalid, leaning her head upon the 
Marquise’s shoulder wept tears of joy. 

“Why do you weep?” said Mme. de Valbret. 
“ At our last meeting we promised to be friends 
henceforth. The dear bond which is going 
to unite us will only strengthen our affec- 
tion.” 

“ Ah ! I weep because words are powerless to 
express my feelings.” 

Etienne regarded them in astonishment. 

Turning towards him, Mme. de Valbret said : 
“ The Marquis was named Geoffroy de Valbret ; ” 
and fitienne comprehended all, for the evening 
of the soiree, whilst waiting for Xavier de Bois 
Roughs, his grandmother had talked of nothing 
but the delightful visit of her unknown visitor, 
Mme. Geoffroy. 

“Could it be possible,” he murmured, “that 
the—” 

“Yes,” answered Mme. de Valbret, “ it was not 
only a possibility but an actual fact. Little 
causes, great effects! You will often find this 


232 RENEE’S MARRIAGE. 

the law, Monsieur, governing many of the events 
of life.” 

“ One thought troubles us, — my son and my- 
self,” murmured the invalid. 

“ I think I know what it is. Do not let it 
worry you. So much the better for you that 
Ren£e is rich. You have sought the kingdom of 
God and his justice : accept whatever additional 
good may result to you therefrom.” 

Then pointing to the medallion, the Marquise 
added, “ Let us not doubt that it is the friend to 
whom I so long ago gave that pledge of tender- 
ness who now restores it to me. Watching over 
Ren6e from that home above, she has wished to 
entrust me with the secret, assuring the happiness 
of one so dear to us both. May we not in all 
confidence believe this? ” 

“ What answer could I make you, Madame ? ” 
said Etienne. “ I am indeed dazed, overcome. 
There certainly was never anything like this on 
earth.” 

“Yes, yes, my child,” exclaimed the invalid, 
“ there has been. Do you not recollect the story of 
Tobias? Afflicted and desolate, Tobias sent his 
son one day some distance from home to collect a 
little sum of money. And when the young man 
returned, he brought not only the few pieces of 
silver that had been owing, but the joy, the pride, 
the love of his life, Sarah. And to what was he 


THE NEXT DAY. 233 

indebted for such a prodigy ? Ah, the young man 
had met in his path the angel of the Lord.” 

“ Oh ! how can you draw such a comparison ? 
I really decline my portion therein. However, 
since you have chosen it, let us pursue the sub- 
ject to the end. What was the angel's answer to 
Tobias’s warm, hearty outpouring of thanks?” 

“ It is scarcely worth while to go further,” said 
the invalid smiling. 

“ Oh ! yes, we must continue. I ask what 
was the angel’s answer to Tobias ? The angel 
told him that his (Tobias’s) prayers and merits, — 
the merits of a life spent in the exercise of inde- 
fatigable charity to his fellow creatures and of 
every other virtue, had ascended on high, and 
because he was acceptable to the Lord, it had, 
been necessary for him to be tried by adversity. 
Thus has it been with yourself ; but the day 
of your tribulation is now past, let your heart 
pour itself forth in thanksgiving.” 

Mme. de Valbret and the invalid talked a few 
moments longer ; then, looking at the clock, Mme. 
de Valbret said : 

“ It is time for us to go, and fulfil our engage- 
ment.” 

“I am at your service; Madame,” replied 
Etienne. 

“ Where is your mother’s betrothal ring ? ” 

“ Here it is,” answered the invalid, taking off 


234 


RENEE’S MARRIAGE. 


of her own finger a ring set with a small sapphire, 
“ I should not have ventured to give it to him just 
yet.” 

“ Oh ! give it to him without the least fear. 
Good-bye, dear Madame. We must now leave 
you alone for a short time. To-morrow, M. 
Vangaramenghen will bring your daughter to see 
you.” 

“ She will find her dear Cecile and Therese 
with me.” 

“ They will be delighted at the news. Again, 
let me say good-bye. I will see you soon.” 

Mme. de Lagareuc’s trembling hands clasped 
those of the Marquise once more, and then were 
laid on Etienne’s forehead in token of her blessing 
upon the great event on the point of accomplish- 
ment. 

“ Go, my child,” she said in a voice of emotion, 
“ go and may God be with you ! ” 

And these words were still on her lips, when 
she heard the carriage drive off, bearing the 
Marquise and fitienne to Renee. 

* * * * 

It was quite late in the day when Mme. de 
Valbret reached home. The servant who let her 
in said to her whilst endeavoring to make up a fire 
as quickly as possible : 

“ Mme. de Broz was here about two o’clock. 
She greatly regretted that you were not at home, 


THE NEXT DAY. 


235 


but she came in and charged me to tell you that 
she will breakfast with you to-morrow, if nothing 
prevents.” 

“ I shall send her word that it will give 
me great pleasure to have her breakfast with 
me.” 

“ M. de Bois Roughs has also been here twice. 
He is very anxious to see Madame, and he will be 
back about five o’clock.” 

“ So much the better, for I had intended send- 
ing for him. Have you made a fire in the little 
parlor ? ** 

“Yes, Madame.” 

“Now let Frangoise know that I am home. 
It is already a quarter of five o’clock.” 

A few minutes later, the Marquise had put on 
a handsome wrapper ; and, worn Out with fa- 
tigue, she sought rest in the depths of an easy 
chair. On the previous evening, she had been 
devoured with anxiety, whilst endeavoring to 
bring together the ends of a perplexing question, 
— one of most serious import, since it involved 
the happiness of two young lives, the future 
of a family, — everything indeed, contained in 
that one word marriage , at the present day, so 
often considered synonymous with business, posi- 
tion, money. Now, she was rejoicing and 
thanking God for the mysterious means by 
which He had enabled her to accomplish her 


236 


RENEE’S MARRIAGE. 


purpose, to her own kind heart’s satisfaction and 
the good of others. 

Suddenly the sound of the doorbell, interrupted 
her reflections. Old Pierre’s hand raised the 
portiere and Xavier de Bois Rouges entered. 

“ Madame, Madame ! ” he exclaimed, imprint- 
ing a kiss upon her hand. 

“ Ah ! Madame ! ” he repeated, wiping his 
eyes, and for a moment unable to utter another 
word. 

“ Calm yourself, my child ,” said the Marquise. 
“ Positively you are crying. Is it from joy or 
grief? ” 

“ Madame, how can you ask me such a ques- 
tion?” 

“ Because I know that circumstances are calcu- 
lated to produce a conflict of feelings in your 
heart.” 

“ Oh ! no, I assure you, no, although poor 
Alphonse is truly to be pitied. But I could not 
be indifferent to the voice of friendship in such 
a case as this, especially when the favors of for- 
tune have been awarded one so truly deserving 
of them.” 

“You now understand why I was unwilling 
to have you present during that conversation with 
M. Le Mahouet.” 

“ Oh ! how I have congratulated myself that 
you asked me to retire. In what an embarrassing 


THE NEXT DAY. 


237 


position should I not have been placed ! I thank 
you indeed, Madame, for your thoughtful kindness 
on this occasion — it saved me a great deal.” 

“Confess now that for the time you were a 
little vexed at me.” 

“ No, I cannot make such a confession, for it 
would not be the truth. To be sure, having no 
idea as to the import of the conversation, I 
naturally felt a desire to take part in it, purely 
out of my deep regard for fetienne, and judging 
from your words that they contained more than 
a vague hope. Still I felt that you had good 
reasons for requesting me to retire, or you would 
not have done so.” 

“ Just see now what an admirable thing confi- 
dence is ! ” 

“ When it is well placed,” replied Xavier. 

“ Oh ! of course, I mean when it is well placed,” 
said the Marquise laughing. “ But, my dear 
child, how terribly worked up and nervous you 
are ! ” 

“ I really cannot help it. It you only knew 
what I went through with this morning between 
the ecstasies of the one, and the bitter regrets, the 
despair of the other, you would not wonder that 
my nerves are unstrung. It has so upset me 
that I have been necessitated to request of the 
ministry a respite of two days from work. My 
mother attended to this, for I really was unable 


238 


renee’s marriage. 


to worry with it myself. I must tell you, 
Madame, how delighted my mother is at the 
good news. She is coming to see you to- 
morrow.” 

“ So much the better. I shall be very much 
pleased to see her. But now tell me something 
about our friend, M. Le Mahouet. How did he 
make known to you his good fortune ? ” 

“ At first he was unable to speak. When we 
got out in the street, he caught hold of my hand, 
which felt as if touched by a firebrand. With- 
out saying a word, he dragged (if I may use the 
expression) me thus through the line of carriages 
before your door. ‘ What is the matter with 
you, Etienne?’ I asked, ‘you frighten me.’ 

“He made no reply, but when we were suffi- 
ciently removed from observation, he threw him- 
self into my arms, exclaiming : 

“ ‘ Oh ! Xavier ! Xavier ! ’ 

“ I thought it useless to question him, any 
more, for he seemed too overcome with emotion 
to reply. At last, recovering himself, he said 
faintly : 

“ ‘ I am goingto marry Mile. Vangaramenghen.’ 

“We were walking : at these words I stopped 
short. 

“ ‘ What did you say ? ’ I asked in a startled 
voice. 

“ ‘ I am going to marry Mile. Vangaramenghen.’ 


THE NEXT DAY. 


239 


he replied ; this time speaking very distinctly. 
‘ Dear Xavier, how happy I am ! ’ 

“ It was now my turn to be speechless. I can. 
not tell you, Madame, the confusion that for the 
next few moments had possession of my brain. 
Just imagine it! During the whole evening, I 
had regarded her as the future wife of Alphonse, 
and the idea of such a marriage for my poor 
friend Le Mahouet never entered my thoughts, 
not even in dreams ! 

“ ‘ I scarcely know whether I hear aright,’ said 
I. ‘ Such happiness for you, Etienne . . . and for 
her!’ 

“ These last words, too, issued from my lips in 
accents of veritable joy. You did not know it, 
Madame, but yesterday whilst waiting for you, 
I saw this young girl weeping and praying before 
the tomb of the martyrs.” 

“ She was imploring God to protect her, and 
her prayer, you see, has been answered. 

“ I understand it all now, but as you can well im- 
agine, Madame, I did not at first, and I was truly 
perplexed at so many mysteries. Accompanying 
Etienne to his room, I learned from him all that 
he himself knew of this marvelous affair. He 
told me, too, that Mile. Vangaramenghen was not 
unknown to him, as one of his sisters was de- 
votedly attached to her — also that, last year, he 
had pleaded a case for M. Vangaramenghen, 


240 


RENEE’S MARRIAGE. 


which of course had made him acquainted with 
the distinguished banker.” 

“Yes,” interrupted the Marquise, “and that is 
why I had no need to present M. Le Mahouet to 
his future father-in-law. The latter already knew 
and esteemed him. As soon as I mentioned the 
name of the young man whom I desired to be- 
come Reene’s husband, M. Vangaramenghen ex- 
claimed, ‘ Ah ! yes, very good indeed,’ and then 
mentioned the above incident which helped serve 
my plans.” 

“ Etienne,” continued Xavier, “ told me how 
you gradually opened up to him this radiant per- 
spective. I could not recover from my astonish- 
ment. That you were acquainted with Mile. 
Vangaramenghen I knew, fori had met her on the 
stairway here. I also knew that you wished to 
save her from the marriage that her family 
sought to impose upon her, at which sentiments 
of yours, alas ! I was not surprised, for with me af- 
fection is not blind. But suddenly to see 
Etienne Le Mahouet with whom you had no ac- 
quaintance whatever, of whose history even you 
were in complete ignorance a few hours pre- 
viously, who was presented to you as a poor 
lawyer, asking your influence in obtaining a situa- 
tion for him — to see him during the short space of 
a visit rise so high in your esteem as to be selected 
by you as a worthy husband for the rich and beau- 


THE NEXT DAY. 


241 


tiful Ren6e, was to me a phenomenon surpassing 
all comprehension ! Etienne himself was puzzled 
to understand it ; but he was so touched, so filled 
with joy, that he seemed almost indifferent as to 
the possible cause of such good fortune ; preferring 
rather to regard the effect. I, however, seeking a 
clue to all this, remembered that when I gave 
you his address the name appeared to strike you 
as familiar, and I told him so. He replied, that 
being a lawyer his name was often before the 
public; and in this way it had reached your ears, 
but that positively he had never spoken to you, 
never seen you indeed before being received at 
your house.” 

The Marquise began to laugh. So did Xavier. 

“ Do you know, Madame, what opened my eyes 
to the truth? Well, let me tell you, it was the 
ray of light that broke in upon me from the ac- 
cents of a bitter regret, which is the precursor of 
sincere repentance.” 

“Ah!” exclaimed the Marquise, “did he tell 
you all? He recognized me then?” 

“ When he had returned to his dwelling, with 
the sword in his heart — ** 

“ Was it indeed in his heart ? ” 

“ It certainly was. The fatal words which de- 
stroyed his hopes contained a revelation. Scan- 
ning his memory for a solution of them, there 
suddenly flashed across his mind the recollection 


242 


RENEE’S MARRIAGE. 


of that eventful incident in which you were a 
participant. He was at our house as early as 
possible next morning. I was still in bed, let me 
confess to my shame, when aroused by his sud- 
denly opening my door. Poor boy ! he was piti- 
ful to behold ! I assure you, all his pretentious 
airs, his puerilities had disappeared. He was as 
pale as a sheet, and the picture of distress. This 
blow, terrible as it is, will no doubt prove a last- 
ing benefit to him ; it has already done him good. 
Even then I noticed in his language and his gen- 
eral bearing a simplicity, a manliness in which 
heretofore he had been very deficient. There 
was no necessity for my inquiring the cause of 
all this. 

“ I merely exclaimed, 

“ ‘ Oh ! it is you Alphonse.’ 

“ Bringing a chair up to my bed, he seated him- 
self and said, 

Xavier is it true that Mile. Vangaramenghen 
is to marry this M. Le Mahouet ? ’ 

“ I replied, 

‘ Alphonse, let me assure you that you doubt- 
less were apprised of the fact, ere it was known to 
myself, I left Mme. de Valbret’s house under 
the impression that this young woman was to be 
youi wife.’ 

I believe you,’ said he, in a tone of great 
earnestness, ‘ I believe you, Xavier. I know you 


THE NEXT DAY. 


243 


well, and I have confidence in you. Had it not 
been for the Baroness, I should never have spoken 
to you as I did last night.’ 

(He here made allusion to a little mistake on 
his part.) 

“ ‘ Think no more about it ; I have cast it out 
of my thoughts,’ was my answer. ‘You surely 
are not going to bring up that nonsense again.' 

“ He shook his head and said, 

“ ‘ Your dear friend has played a little game on 
you.’ 

Not at all. Make no such accusations 
against Etienne whose conduct throughout the 
whole affair has been admirable in its delicacy. 
Mile. Vangaramenghen’s hand was offered him, 
instead of being granted at his request as you 
seem to think.’ 

“ ‘ I did not deem myself guilty of any betrayal 
of confidence or even of imprudence in speaking 
thus, for no one would suppose that fitienne 
dreamed — ” 

“ You did right,” said Mme. de Valbret. 

Xavier continued, 

“ At these words, ‘ Mile. Vangaramenghen’s 
hand was offered him,’ Alphonse made a gesture 
of despair that was indescribable. Then pressing 
his clinched hands to his forehead, he ex- 
claimed, 

“ ‘ Yes, yes, it is true. I am not mistaken then. 


244 


RENEE’S MARRIAGE. 


This thought has been killing me all night. 
The Marquise de Valbret is truly revenged 
upon me. Vengeance is the pleasure of the 
gods, and, doubtless, also of the great ones of 
earth ! ’ 

“ Madame, since yesterday morning, there had 
been nothing but a succession of surprises for me, 
and one more surprise added to the list ought to 
have been of no consequence. Yet, I hardly 
think that anything that had heretofore taken 
place in connection with this most mysterious 
affair could have made such an impression upon 
me as these words of Alphonse. Mme. de Valbret 
revenging herself upon Alphonse ! The bare 
possibility of such a thing! It were easier for 
me to believe in a universal confusion of right 
and wrong. 

“ Asking myself if I had heard my cousin 
aright, I said to him, 

“ ‘ Alphonse, you are talking nonsense.’ 

“ ‘ Oh ! no, I am not,’ he replied, ‘ and more- 
over, I know what is the cause of all this.’ 

“* Well, if you do know, please tell me, for I 
certainly could never guess what it is.’ 

“ The astonishment and incredulity with which 
I received his prelude to the narration, calmed 
him somewhat after this first explosion. 

“‘What would be the use of telling you?’ 
said he, shrugging his shoulders. ‘ You would 


THE NEXT DAY. 245 

blame me, and that could not better my mis- 
fortune.’ 

“ ‘ There is something then back of all this 
which I have never heard ? Now, Alphonse, lay 
aside your anger, your suspicions and everything 
of the sort, long enough to tell what it is. You 
know my affection for you, my sincere desire to 
see you happy, and the frankness with which I 
have always treated you, even when our opinions 
differed. Now, be open with me; keep nothing 
back, and I, on my side, will tell you all that 
may be of any service to you regarding the per- 
sons and the circumstances — at least, all that I 
know.’ 

“ Then Madame, he began to relate an inci- 
dent, a deplorable incident — ’ 

“ Yes,” replied the Marquise smiling, “ I know 
what he told you. He said that anxious to gain 
a certain end — ” 

“To get to a concert in time.” 

“ What it was matters not — and to attain this 
end he employed means somewhat reprehensible 
in their agility.” 

‘“Ah! would that I had broken a limb that 
morning;’” he said, continued Alphonse. 

“ Oh ! the poor young man ! He advocates 
violent remedies, I see. But it would be much, 
better for him to govern and direct a faculty 
truly remarkable, then to lose it in so cruel a man- 


246 RENEE’S MARRIAGE. 

ner ! When he learns to practice respect for 
women, the aged, the poor, then indeed he may 
be agile in all security.” 

“ Having finished his narration,” continued 
Xavier, “ he said these few words which are 
much to his credit : ‘ I did wrong.’” 

“ Ah ! yes. To acknowledge a fault is nigh 
akin to reparation of it.” 

“ He said repeatedly, as if seeking to vent his 
distress : ‘ My trifling fault did not merit such a 
punishment. I was indeed, on this occasion, 
as ill-bred as the man who repulsed me said; 
but not to such an extent as to merit losing the 
happiness of my whole life.’” 

“ And he covered me with imprecations, did 
he not, as a strange creature, a malevolent, 
implacable being?” 

“ Not knowing you, Madame, he did at first 
give way to some ill-feeling engendered by his 
suspicions.” 

“ Poor young man ! how mistaken he is !” 
sighed the Marquise. 

“ It is not necessary to tell me that, Madame. 
I know what your resentment means. It is be- 
cause of their having injured you that the old 
gardeners, your neighbors formerly, are now so 
well lodged and cared for.” 

“ Who told you that, Xavier ? ” 

“ Never mind, I know it. Now, to return to 


THE NEXT DAY. 


247 


my poor cousin — I was vainly endeavoring to 
reason with him, when he astonished me by saying, 

“ ‘ Even here, this Le Mahouet had to be in my 
path.’ 

“ What connection could Etienne have with 
this affair ? ’ I asked. 

“ Let me do Alphonse the justice to say that 
notwithstanding it redounded so greatly to 
fitienne’s credit, he told the whole story without 
the least prevarication. I now understood all 
that had seemed really inexplicable. Yesterday, 
on calling for litienne to present him to you, 
Mme. Lagareuc, who had not yet retired, asked 
me if I were acquainted with a Mine. Geoffroy 
who lived in that neighborhood, a most charm- 
ing lady who had just paid her a visit. She also 
told me some details of this visit, and I learned the 
drift of their two hours’ conversation, as well as 
the motive that had led Mme. Geoffroy to see 
her. In finishing his narration, Alphonse 
brought suddenly before my eyes the various 
personages of this truly remarkable story, and, in 
an instant, everything was clear to me. 

“I said to him, ‘You have cleared up the 
mystery. I now see the cause of your aversion 
for fitienne.’ 

“‘At first, I felt afraid that he would tell you, 
and afterwards it mortified me to see him,’ he 
murmured. 


248 


RENEE’S MARRIAGE. 


“ I draw my inferences from what you have just 
said ! ” I answered, “ for Etienne never breathed 
it to me. You also enlightened me as to the cause 
of Mme. de Valbret’s rejecting for her little friend 
the proposed alliance with you and seeking 
another. Her conduct in this was less a rejection 
of you, than the selection of a young man of whom 
everything and every one spoke favorably.’” 

“ You are perfectly right, my child, you hit the 
point;” said the Marquise. “Your cousin did 
wrong, and his sufferings are less a chastisement 
than the natural consequences of his conduct, 
for it is certain that if he had not acted thus 
Ren£e would now be his betrothed. In the 
first place, his behavior on the occasion referred 
to was not calculated to give me a high opinion 
of him. There are acts unimportant in them- 
selves which nevertheless reveal one’s character. 
Your cousin’s conduct was at variance with 
both kindness and good manners, the require- 
ments of which he proved himself capable of 
ignoring, or at least of laying aside at option — a 
grave defect indeed, Xavier, when there is ques- 
tion of a woman’s happiness ! We must know how 
to be heroic, if in the course of life the occasion 
offers ; but ordinarily these occasions are rare ; 
whilst our characteristics make the daily happi- 
ness or the martydom of those around us. That 
extreme elegance so sought after by M. de Mont- 


THE NEXT DAY. 


249 


pollin proves that he is far from indifferent to 
the opinions of others, even in the most unim- 
portant matters. Now, do you think that a young 
man jealous of appearing in society as gentle- 
manly and polished to the highest degree, 
yet who could so easily lay aside the bare 
civilities of life when he believed himself 
removed from criticism, can inspire much confi- 
dence in his sincerity or his integrity? How 
many young girls bind their lives in matrimony 
to men of whose characters and dispositions they 
see only the bright side until too late to retrieve 
the mistake. And when at the domestic hearth 
the tinsel of mere worldly adornment gradually 
disappears, whilst the world still beholds a man 
of refinement and elegance the wife knows him as 
he i s — devoid of both — sad knowledge indeed ! ” 

“ I should like to be able to contradict you, 
Madame, but I cannot, for you are right.” 

“And how could I who had Renee’s confi- 
dence neglect a consideration of such things in 
a momentous question where everything should 
be examined ? M. de Montpollin without intend- 
ing it truly rendered your friend a great service. 
Just see the great effects resulting from what your 
cousin considered a very trifling, insignificant 
act ! It gave M. Le Mahouet the opportunity 
of showing how different was his line of conduct, 
which in turn allowed me to penetrate into that 


250 


RENEE’S MARRIAGE. 


dwelling where I saw Renee’s place marked out 
by the hand of Providence.” 

“ This is what I told poor Alphonse, when he 
had made me understand that the person to 
whom Etienne gave his seat was no other than 
yourself, Madame.” 

“ ‘ Let your astonishment cease,’ I said to him. 
* When I presented my friend to the Marquise de 
Valbret, I was under the impression that they 
had never met before, and he thought the same ; 
but she already knew him, and his aged relative 
sufficiently well to feel justified in selecting him 
for Rente’s husband.’ 

“ I am much pleased to tell you that the re- 
sult was very gratifying indeed. When Alphonse 
had been made to understand that your decision 
was based, not upon the miserable promptings of 
resentment, but a most enlightened prudence 
joined to deep affection for Ren£e, his anger was 
appeased, and he grew reasonable.” 

“ ‘ Are you sure then,’ he asked, ‘ that Mme. de 
Valbret’s choice of M. Le Mahouet was purely out 
of personal esteem for him, and not a desire to 
be revenged upon me ? ’ 

“ ‘ Certainly, I am ; it could be from no other 
motive.’ 

“ ‘ Then why,’ he continued , 1 did she tell M. and 
Mile. Vangaramenghen about it? ’ ” 

“Ah! Xavier,” interrupted the Marquise, “be 


THE NEXT DAY. 


251 


so kind as to let him know that I did this very 
unwillingly, after vainly endeavoring to state my 
objections in general terms. I had no idea of 
entering into detail, but M. Vangaramenghen’s 
questions were so pressing, so direct, and reti- 
cence on my part might have left him under 
the impression that your cousin’s faults were of 
a graver nature than the incivility of which I had 
to complain ; at least, there was nothing left for 
me but to relate the incident. M. Vangaramen- 
ghen was very indignant, and I had to do my 
best to mollify his wrath. It was just at this 
moment the proposal of alliance with M. Le 
Mahouet was accepted, Renee willingly acced- 
ing thereto, at my first words, and M. Vangara- 
menghen being not less favorable, although 
somewhat annoyed and undecided because of the 
hopes already given to your cousin.” 

“ Madame, ” continued M. de Bois Rouges, 
“ keep your words of consolation and encourage- 
ment for the unhappy culprit who, after grave 
reflection, begged me to ask your permission to 
let him come to you and apologize.” 

“ He is approaching conversion ! ” exclaimed 
Mme. de Valbret. “ Did this thought of apolo- 
gizing emanate from him or you ? ” 

“ What matters that ? ” replied Xavier some- 
what embarrassed at the Marquise’s penetration. 
“ It is more meritorious to comply with proffered 


252 


RENEE’S MARRIAGE. 


counsel in many instances than to take the initia- 
tive in the best of matters.” 

“ My dear child, bring him here to-morrow. I 
do not wish him to humble himself before me. 
The mere fact of his coming will be sufficient- 
Assure him of my pleasure at knowing that he 
allows himself to be advised by a friend like you. 
It gives me great hope that this severe lesson 
will not be lost upon him. One day, his loss will 
be repaired. Renee would not have suited him ; 
she is too far his superior in many ways, and she 
would have been very unhappy.” 

“ Ah, this thought of her unhappiness made me 
sad.” 

“ Without looking so high as was the proposed 
match with Renee, he can find a very suitable 
alliance. Opulence is not at all necessary. No 
doubt, this little episode will end in our seeing him 
happily married and settled in life.” 

A smile played around Mme. de Valbret’s lips 
as she uttered this last sentence. 

“ I think so,” said Xavier, with the same smile. 
The two looked at each other. 

“ Ah ! Xavier you have stolen my idea.” 

‘‘How could I help it, Madame? I felt so 
sorry for him.” 

“ Does it meet with your mother’s approval?” 

“ Entirely. The present happiness of fitienne 
and his betrothed have given poor Alphonse hope. 


THE NEXT DAY. 


253 


. . . He is a little brighter for this, and I think 
the hope will change into a reality. I have 
nothing whatever to do with the sentimental 
part of the affair.” * 

“ How he ought to love you ! ” 

“ I pitied him so. Moreover, Madame, I have 
not given him full rein in some matters. Whilst 
wishing to see Alphonse established, since he de- 
sires it, and knowing how beneficial good example 
under these especial circumstances may be to 
him, I do not intend him to waste what may be 
useful to others.” 

“ Have you seen M. Le Mahouet since this 
morning ? ” 

“ Not yet ; I am going to see him presently.” 

“ He will tell you of M. Vangaramenghen’s 
reception of us. Everything passed off very 
well. The marriage is to take place early in 
December. Now, Xavier, do you in turn give 
me a little information, not as to what has taken 
place but what is to take place. Tell me why it 
is that in seeking to assure Renee’s happiness by 
a marriage worthy of her, I selected this young 
man who was a stranger to me instead of another 
whom I have known and loved since his infancy 
— one re-uniting in himself all the advantages of 
birth, fortune, virtue, intelligence, goodness of 
heart — in fact, everything that is desirable. He 
was near me, he had a mother who would have 


254 


RENEE’S MARRIAGE. 


cherished Renee, a sister the equal of Mile. Le 
Mahouet. Although he denies it (circumstances 
never having given him an opportunity of prov- 
ing it), I dare say that he is even superior to his 
friend Etienne. Why then, when it was in my 
power to give so great a proof of my esteem and 
confidence did I pass him by ? ” 

“You praise him so highly, Madame, that he 
cannot recognize himself any longer.” 

The Marquise shook her head, and said, “ I 
know what I say, and he knows of whom I 
speak. Answer me, Xavier. Why did I not 
select this young man? ” 

Looking at her with a smile of ineffable sweet- 
ness, he answered almost in a whisper, “ Because 
this young man’s heart was elsewhere, and you 
know it.” 

The Marquise clasped her hands. 

“ Ah ! you could not conceal it from me,” 
she said. “ Have I not learned, day by day, 
moment by moment, to speak thus, how God 
forms the hearts of those whom He calls to Him- 
self ? Have I not reached the truth through 
that which makes it precious, inestimable — the 
struggle against self and the sacrifice of 
illusions? And what does your mother say, 
Xavier? ” 

“ She believes I have a vocation, and little by 
little she tries to accustom herself to the 


THE NEXT DAY. 255 

thought of my departure, she consents to give 
me to God, and yet — ” 

“ And yet what ? ” 

“ With you I can speak openly. Doubtless, 
what she does is much ; yet, in the presence of 
this supreme grace, I should like to behold in 
her something more.” 

“ Something more,” repeated the Marquise 
slowly. “ Something more ! Ah ! they are all 
alike, dear Lord, those whom Thou dost select 
for Thine own! Listen to me, Xavier. Jean 
was sitting just where you are now, when I, at 
last, pronounced the words that separated him 
from me and gave him to Jesus Christ. He had 
been long waiting to hear them — these trium- 
phant words. Often they had been upon my lips^ 
but I lacked the courage to utter them. Oh ! 
with what specious pretexts, what apparently 
forcible arguments did I not oppose my holy 
child, striving first to convince myself that I was 
right ! But a very few words from his lips would 
suffice to show the fallacy of my utterances, 
and break down those barriers behind which I 
believed myself so securely intrenched. Oh ! the 
wisdom with which God enlightens His own ; 
and how blind are they who contend against 
them ! Sometimes he vanquished me without 
uttering a word in reply. When anxious to keep 
him with me, I almost exhausted myself in 


256 


RENEE’S MARRIAGE. 


extolling the life of an honorable man in the 
world, the father of a family, the guardian of salu- 
tary traditions, the champion in society of truth 
and justice he would look at me and smile, and 
then the remainder of my words would die upon 
my lips. Before that angelic smile I must 
give way ; and I even found myself wishing that 
God’s designs upon my son might never be any- 
thing less. Sometimes, thinking to touch the 
vulnerable spot in his heart, I would say : 

“‘Jean, with your great fortune, you could do 
so much good by remaining in the world.’ 

“ He would answer, 

“ ‘ And is not one’s self the most beautiful and 
acceptable alms that could be offered,’ or, 

‘ Mother, it is not of me God asks much, but of 
you.’ 

“ At last, one evening (and oh ! Xavier, how 
often have I not thought of that moment, how 
often have I not thanked God for having aided 
me to triumph over self), he was seated just 
'where you are, and the room lighted as it is now 
| only by the faint rays of a taper. We were talk- 
ing, I for the hundreth time urging upon him my 
,vain desires, he combating them by his luminous, 
celestial hopes. Suddenly, I said to him, 

“ ‘Jean, my child, I see that it is impossible to 
dissuade you from this. I withhold my consent 
no longer. Go, and be happy.’ 


THE NEXT DAY. 


257 


“ At these words, a deadly pallor overspread 
his countenance, and, rising, he threw himself on 
his knees before me. 

“‘Do you really give your consent, mother ? ’ 
he asked in a quivering voice. 

“ ‘Yes, I give my consent, go and be happy.’ 

“ ‘ Do not speak thus, mother ; ’ he replied, 
‘ you know well that it is not in search of happi- 
ness I leave you.* 

“ Almost distracted, I threw my arms around 
his neck, sobbing out, ‘ Be happy.’ 

“ ‘ He arose, and taking my hands in his, said 
in a tone which I can never forget, nor the pro- 
phetic accents : 

“ ‘ Happy! I shall not be so alone. You also 
will be happy, not only in heaven, but even on 
earth.’ 

“ ‘ I shall never be happy separated from you,’ 
I cried out in the bitterness of my soul. Pressed 
to my child’s heart I knew that his tears were 
mingled with mine. 

“ Two months later, there was no longer a Mar- 
quis de Valbret, his place in the bustling world was 
vacant, and an humble novice wearing a coarse, 
patched habit represented the last of that race. 
He laughed pleasantly as he showed me his habit. 
A feeling of bitterness swelled up in my heart at 
sight of him thus, and to conceal what I felt I 
embraced him, saying, 


258 


RENEE’S MARRIAGE. 


“ ‘ I love you, my Jean, I bless you.’ 

“ Fixing upon me one of those indescribable 
looks I had sometimes seen on his face, he said, 
‘You love me, mother, you bless me. Yet, I 
desire something more.’ 

“ He spoke just as you do, Xavier. You see 
that I felt then as your mother does now. At 
this moment the bell rang, and he must leave the 
parlor. Ere going, he said : 

“ ‘ This something, mother, may God give you ; 
I cannot.’ 

“ Ah ! Xavier, this something more that my 
holy child desired I never understood until the day 
when I pressed my lips upon his forehead cold in 
death. He was sleeping with a smile, having sunk 
to rest in all the freedom of his sacrifice, the joy 
of his fidelity. Then and not until then did I feel 
what sorrow, what ceaseless remorse, I should 
have prepared for my portion in life henceforth 
had I by continued resistance to his vocation 
filled his last moments with regret and perhaps 
fright. My son, whose heart had been given to 
none other on earth save myself was not 
deceived in those hopes for me which he had 
longed to see realized : by one stroke, the hand 
of death, he had carried my desires afar. At his 
death-bed, where one felt far nearer heaven than 
the tomb, I understood how deep had been his 
tenderness for me, and also the meaning which 


THE NEXT DAY. 


259 


he attached to his words : ‘ You will be happy, 
even on earth.’ He spoke truly, Xavier. I am 
happy. The sacrifice which for a long time 
seemed above my strength is now my support as 
I journey through life; it is the object of my dearest 
remembrance and my most cherished hope. I 
enjoy that peace, that assurance of the future in 
which all the sorrows that come upon me, and all 
the vain joys of earth (deceptions indeed), are 
swallowed up and lost. I am alone, it is true, 
but oh ! for so short a time ! Every day do I feel 
myself nearer and nearer the dear ones who have 
been awaiting me. The trials, the infirmities 
inherent to old age are my consolation, for they 
foretell the approach of the hour of recompense. 
I now possess that something more which Jean 
referred to — celestial peace and joy, and this bles- 
sing became mine just at the time when I believed 
I had received a cross almost too much for me 
to bear. Now I bless my child for his courage.” 

The Marquise ceased speaking, and looked up 
at the portrait of the young monk. Something 
of the heavenly expression of that innocent face 
seemed to be reflected upon her own countenance. 
Xavier sat mute and motionless before her, as if 
wrapped in meditation. He was struck at hear- 
ing her express so clearly and forcibly the 
thoughts and sentiments that abode in his heart. 
In a moment, she continued, 


2 6o 


RENEE’S MARRIAGE. 


“Jean, you know, belonged to the Angelic 
Order. Are you going to be his brother. Xavier ? ” 
“ I am going to be a son of St. Ignatius.” 

“A Jesuit! You do well, my child. A Jesuit! 
in the hour of calumny and persecution to be 
ever foremost in the ranks battling for Christ, 
and to be for His sake a target for the keenest 
shafts ! Come to see me whenever you can. We 
understand each other, we will be allies. I will 
often visit your mother. You will plead God’s 
cause with her, I will plead her own. Will your 
words persuade her ? I hope so. At any rate, I 
believe (indeed I cannot doubt it) that she will 
not refuse to profit by my experience.” 

The End. 
















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